Young and wild and free
and full of fantasy we search the summer
to find a flame.
To take us higher, whether it's arson or it's wildfire,
We try to catch the ashes as they fly away.
Wicked waves, they swell a mile high
yet all of us still want to ride.
And it's a left hook to the right jaw
Of the wrong man, and it's our fault,
and these wild eyes.
And it's a good look at the last straw
the bad girls and the sweet talk
and their wild eyes, these wild eyes.
Cut the ropes, don't settle in,
Ditch the guidelines and skim the skylines
For an offering.
Reckless ways and fickle crazes
become yesterday's forgotten and abandoned,
and lost along the way.
The blindness is still blindness today.
And it's a left turn to the right job,
of the wrong man, and it's our fault,
and these wild eyes.
It's a good look at the last straw
the bad girls and the sweet talk
and their wild eyes, these wild eyes.
Blindly get inside the wind
They've clearly lost the way
I'll admit we're still swingin' away.
Swing away.
La la, la la, la la, la la, la la
La la, la la, la la, la la, la la
La la, la la, la la, la la, la la
And it's a left hook to the right jaw,
Of the wrong man and it's our fault
and these wild eyes.
It's a good look at the last straw
the bad girls and the sweet talk
And their wild eyes, these wild eyes.
these wild eyes, these wild eyes
these wild eyes, these wild eyes