Fourth of July, on the hood of my Mom’s red mustang,
Laughing and singing every song that came on the radio.
Eating orange popsicles from the ice cream truck,
Drinking in the excitement in our voices, in the air.
Knowing we’ll never be very far apart from each other,
Our friendships can last the test of time
The fireworks light up the sky, as we scream for more
We’re one and one for all.

School is finally out for the summer, no teachers and no plans.
My friends meet me on the old, overgrown railroad tracks,
Marlboro red in our lungs and hot Milwaukee’s Best in a can
We climb down under the old stone bridge,
It bears our names in blue and black spray paint.
This is our sacred place, unknown to all outsiders.
The place where we can let our hair down
We are the youth gone wild.

Some of our parents didn’t even try to understand our world.
Back in their day children didn’t disobey their elders
They assumed our passions were simply wastes of time.
Loud music with words like hell and damn,
Faded concert tees and holey pants were our freedom
They’d scream, "Turn it down!" to the top of their lungs
And with our cocky attitudes, the volume went higher
We are the youth gone wild.