"The Next Great American Spirit Strikes Back!" lyrics

Christ! Seven years of college down the drain. Might as well join the fucking peace corps

It's not really about the menthol
It's not really about the taste
It's the sick, sad sense of company
I can't help but embrace

Maybe I'm a little bit smarter
Maybe I'm a little bit too grown up
And I know my body is a temple
It's just that I, I just don't give a
Fuck

It's just another bad habit
It costs me fifteen bucks a week
But it's the only thing that keeps me awake
Off four hours of sleep

I can't stop coughing my lungs out
Running through my teeth
But if something is gonna change
It should've been here by last week
But if I have to sit and wait
At least I'll have some company

I need to stop falling in love with girls I've never met
And replacing those feelings with cheap cigarettes
Every jacket I own is now covered in smoke
I can't wash it out
I can't go see my folks

Pabst Blue Ribbon!

It's not really about the menthol
It's not really about the taste
It's the sick, sad ash left smoldering
That burns right up through my face

I guess I'm really not smarter
I guess I really don't know myself
And if shit ever gets better please tell me just what that means
Cause now all my clothes smell like smoke
I guess I'm never clean

I need to stop falling in love with girls I've never met
And replacing those feelings with cheap cigarettes
Every jacket I own is now covered in smoke
I can't wash it out
I can't go see my folks

It's not really about the menthol

Hey! What's this lyin' around shit!