There she goes, the girl with the thorns A crowd to which she was born She gets lost and torn, at times in a war, Looking for sinking scores There's a boy, in constant dismay, Crowding in the doorway, Thinking of rooms, all painted pale blue Are we just walking through? Hmmm... It's a vacant youth. So come all you youth, vacant in truth Take your seat on the floor We blew out the walls, with our youthful wrongs But hey, we still got those songs Hmmm... It's a vacant youth. So hey misanthrope, you terrible joke, Do the women come and go? Well "fashionable quote" and Michelangelo Look all too painfully wrote Hmmm... It's a vacant youth Sons of daughters, daughters of fathers Those barren-railed plans we become A job in defense, for a white picket fence Well, I wish you well in the end