The bands I like, they don't sell so many records,
And the girls I like, they don't kiss too many boys,
And the books I read will never be best sellers,
Oh but come on fellas, at least we made our choice.

What do we want, and when do we want it?
And how would we feel if we knew we were never going to get it?
Where did we start from, and where are we going?
Can anyone here say with any certainty that they know what they're doing?

Ever feel like an awkward understudy
Thrown into a cast where you just don't get along?
The crowd and the crew all standing silent staring,
And you can't shake the feeling that, somehow,
You're doing it wrong.
What do we want?

Mum and dad seemed like they had a plan,
Everything fell apart when mum moved on, now dad's a broken man.
All these decisions, they keep getting made,
I can't remember making them, and nobody wants to explain.

We're all awkward understudies wearing comfortable shoes,
Getting comfortable with doing it wrong.
We missed the dress rehearsals and we had to much to drink before the show,
But now it's showtime, so sing it out strong.

Be a fan of ever band who ever made you want to move your feet.
Fall in love with every person who ever made your heart want to skip a beat.
So come on, come on come on, what do we want?

We shall not overcome,
We shall underwhelm.

Because the lives we lead might no be so very perfect,
And the plans we make may not serve some final purpose,
But the hearts we heed they still beat the way they used to,
So if we're doing it wrong, well, what are you going to do?

What do we want?