Land of the free, home of the brave. We started when the sun set and didn't stop until sunrise. There was something in the air: the youth, the energy, the palpable feeling of creation at our fingertips, and we became addicted. With lipstick kisses on the mirrors, we stole the money from tip jars and dined and dashed at every restaurant that let us in barefoot.
It was a strange time, for when we had nothing but a backpack full of yesterday's clothes and a voice in our hearts telling us to go forth, was when we felt the richest. Screaming from the rooftops yelling, "get us while we're hot," we learned how to charm officers and hitchhike on highways.
America: land of the free, home of the brave. No one could deny such sweet faces. We lived for the freedom; the glory; the right to say we've been to hell and back and could do it all over again if we wanted to. Youth pulsed through our veins as we ventured on, with each other there to remind us to never look back.
You can promise me diamonds and pearls and a trust fund to make me feel secure, but nothing makes me feel more alive than living on the edge. Reckless is a lifestyle and we mastered the art. Living on the edge, always about to loose it all. And when we did, we started all over again. We did it for the youth, and it was always worth it.
live fast die young, bad girls do it well