DAMN KIDS

Raising kids is harder than moshing… and twice as loud.

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) What do you want from me?

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) Why wont you let me be?

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) You always slam the door

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) You're always wanting more

You left Lego on the stairs again

I stepped on pain and I saw the end

Your bedroom always smells like skunk

That's no excuse for punching my junk

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) You're up at 5 A.M

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) Just broke the TV again

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) Crayons on the kitchen wall

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) Laughing while I lose it all

Changed my Netflix to a kids account

Now what the hell that's about

Every show's just talking food

The algorithm thinks I'm three, how rude

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) Told you not to touch that wire

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) Now the toaster's on fire

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) Left your bike in the rain

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) Driving me insane

Yeeted my keys, threw shade with a sigh

Flipped me off and I don't know why

Said I got no drip, like that's some quiz

Then you told me I have no rizz

I haven't peed alone in five damn years

You flung my underpants on the chandelier

I found a Froot Loop inside my shoe

I don't even eat those, that was you

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) What do you want from me?

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) Why wont you let me be?

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) You always slam the door

Damn Kids (Damn Kids) You're always wanting more

Every drawer's been emptied out

Your juice box leaked on the cat somehow

You've painted the dog, the fridge, your face

And told Alexa to erase this place

Damn Kids is a loud, sarcastic love letter to the chaos of parenthood, where slammed doors, broken TVs, and toaster fires turn into a three-minute punk-rock anthem. Growing older doesn’t mean getting lame, it just means your riffs come with more responsibility.

Heavy riffs? Check. Big hooks? Always. Lyrics? Grown-ass and gut-punching. It’s for the ones who used to rage—and still do, just with recovery time

Heavy riffs? Check. Big hooks? Always. Lyrics? Grown-ass and gut-punching. It’s for the ones who used to rage—and still do, just with recovery time