BB Guns and Dirtbikes The White Buffalo

We were riding out
With our heads in the sky
We were ten and twelve and thirteen
We got BB guns and dirt bikes
And heads full of crowded dreams

We always won
In the hot suburban sun
We were kings of the west side track
These new kids over cross slater street
Coming on like a heart attack

Mama says
Where are ya going?
And when will you be coming home?
With my brother and my memory
I’ll bring my history home

Sealed with piss and with pride
Through the streets we would ride
Over cracks in the dirt and the weeds
We’d best be home by suppertime
Just in time to craft a scheme

If you’ve got my back
Here’s the plan of attack
Listen up if you would boys please
We’ll hit these pussies round midnight
And roll off like a band of thieves