Well they flash Those half-knowing smiles As they pass Heroic profiles Like they're in some book by Ayn Rand Always working, always tanned So satisfied but the kids don't understand You kiss her Don't even love you It's a blur She's getting on top of you Sometimes you see stuff nobody planned Stick your head back in the sand Oh, don't worry cause the kids don't understand Stuck your hands in the wet cement In the soft spot of my skull Well it stings Lick your wounds if I could No such thing As a normal childhood Give 'em paper, scissors and crayons Give all those concerned a big hand Maybe they deserve it, but the kids don't understand Stuck your hands in the wet cement In the soft spot of my skull We're not dumb Even if you spell it We catch on Don't have to yell it I see her flinch, when you raise your hand There's not too much that the kids don't understand