Pissing in plastic cups before we went on stage

Playing hacky sack back when Audioslave was still Rage

Watching all the freaky Dutch kids vomit then have sex

Listening to techno music on the bus while we earned our checks

Memories make me want to go back there, back there

All the memories make me want to go back there, back there

All the memories, how can we make it back there, back there

I want to be there again

Messing with the journalists and tellin’ stupid lies

They had a feeling that something was up because of the look in our eyes

In fact, we didn’t know what we were doing half of the time

We were so sure of ourselves and sure of our way through life

Memories make me want to go back there, back there

All the memories make me want to go back there, back there

All the memories, how can we make it back there, back there

I want to be there again

Now I got so many people that I got to look out for

I never know when I’ll be called away to buy some food at the store

I can hear them babies crying and the lawn needs to be mowed

I gotta get my groove on, ‘cause I’m freaking bored!

Memories make me want to go back there, back there

All the memories make me want to go back there, back there

All the memories, how can we make it back there, back there

I want to be there again