C. Hutchins, M. Hutchins

We wear big ‘ol shorts, although we look like dorks
To be cool the California way
And every Saturday night we take daddies car
But come home before the break of day

We never want for anything
We’ve never been hungry and we’ve never been cold
We talk down to our fathers
But we wanna be like them when we get old 

We’re wild boys from the suburbs and no one better push us around
Wild boys from the suburbs but we’ve never been downtown 

And in the summertime we get a job that’s fine
Yeah, one where we can work on a tan
And the suburbian girls with fake diamonds and pearls
Smell money when they pick out a man