Memories

Pissing in plastic cups before we went on stage
Playing hacky sack back when Audioslave was still Rage
Watching all the freaky Dutch kids vomit, then have sex
Listening to techno music on the bus where we earned our checks
Memories
Make we want to go back there, back there
All the memories
Make we want to go back there, back there
All the memories
How can we make back there, back there?
I want to be there again
Messing with the journalists and telling stupid lies
They had a feeling that something was up because of the look in our eyes
In fact we didn’t know what we were doing half of the time
We were so sure of ourselves and sure of way through life
Now I got so many people that I got to look out for
I never know when I’ll become aware and buy some food at the store
I can hear them babies crying and the lawn needs to be mowed
I gotta get my groove on honey, cuz I’m freaking bored