Way you ride down the street.
Way too cool to smile.
Smirk on the ramp, grin when you spin.
Roll down the hill no expression on your face.
Stomach out hair in the wind, screaming to the world "Noone understands me."
Children´s envy builds your ego, rebel maneuvers.
Abhorrence and a lack of awareness.
Sharing nothing but teenage angst, falling off your board and breaking your wrists.
Pleasing your peers obsession with appearance, the image says you don´t care, blasé!
A platform to build popularity. Indulging in the drink and smoke escaping from clarity.
Two swigs before you vomit, loud drunken hilarity.
Desperately looking to the ranks of cool to sustain your reason to be.
Turn around and curse as you skate down the hill and an old person shouts "Weee" just to urge you on.
Little piece of convention, a hundred brandnames across your clothes, your board, your life.
Glued to fashion as a sport, obeying the trends and craze´s with loyal obedience and pretending to be different. "Weeeeeee, there you go"
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