While your parents worked, you played with dynamite;
You blew them out of sight;
You were the worst in town;
And your teachers said, "You were smart as a whip"...
But, you gave them too much "lip",
(You should have written it down)
They made you feel like "Damien";
But, reality is hype,
Yet, you're still a pariah in their eyes...

All your playground mates who used to eat lead paint,
They made their parents faint,
A kid's life can be very strange;
Like the time you crossed a "dealer" with a "purse",
(Who thought you was a "nurse");
Some things you just can't explain...
Could you be mistaken?
For, your "tea" was "sweet",
(Look at all the "dentists" in the street...)

Get along,
Get along, kid lemonade;
Get along, kid lemonade...

"Chocolate", low-rent "nazi" syncophantic "geeks,"
They chase you through the streets,
People would stop and stare at the multi-colored "rodeo";
Some have said they saw your face upon a wall,
(You must of had brass "balls"),
They want to air them all and all on the video;
Should you be embarrassed?
"Chips" fall where they may,
Should you pack up, fold the cart, and move away?

Find a home,
Find a home, kid lemonade,
Find a home, kid lemonade...

Clean this mess up so their values stay in place,
(These cups and papers plates),
Just get them out of here;
"Is that cash in the box?"
"Yes, that's cash in the box"...
(You could have found it on the ground when you mowed the lawn)
Careful what you tally,
For the law is "wise",
You are still a "minor" in their eyes...

Go on home,
Go on home, kid lemonade;
Go on home, kid lemonade...