Green Day

She puts her makeup on
Like graffiti on the walls of the heartland
She's got her little book of conspiracies
Right in her hand
She is paranoid like
Endangered species headed into extinction
She is one of a kind
She's the last of the American girls
She wears her overcoat
For the coming of the nuclear winter
She is riding her bike
Like a fugitive of critical mass
She's on a hunger strike
For the ones who won't make it for dinner
She makes enough to survive
For a holiday of working class
She's a runaway of the establishment incorporated.
She won't cooperate
She's the last of the American girls