Green Day

Sometimes it gets real hard

And I need some kind of output

For input twice the size of my one-inch mind

So slap me on the hand

Put it right back down my pants

Turn me right around

Kick me in the ass

Well, today I say sweet things

But tomorrow

I'll be making up excuses

For my actions cause it's been so long

Since I have in been in that

A special kind of feeling

Guest my best excuse

I'm on the wagon again

Well I got no real excuse...