| Song | Anthem For Doomed Youth |
| Artist | The Indelicates |
| Album | Songs For Swinging Lovers |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| You’re howling, abyss-eyed and broken | |
| You’re perverted and gracefully drunk | |
| But there’s nobody left in the west these days | |
| Wronged enough to be a punk | |
| Doomed youth, you’re so beautiful | |
| You never learned to be suspicious | |
| of the stones that look too precious to be true | |
| Like you, Doomed Youth. | |
| The spit at the edge of your mouth | |
| The stain at the crotch of your jeans | |
| The three-inch bruise at the crook of your arm | |
| that in the right light looks like jesus | |
| The smirk you can’t hide when you cry | |
| The care in the knot of your tie | |
| It’s really not that hard to stay alive | |
| When you’re twenty-five | |
| Oh, Doomed Youth | |
| Doomed youth. | |
| Your party and your revolution | |
| Your grand designs and adorable dreams | |
| Your silverless palms and your list of demands | |
| For concessions the world doesn’t need | |
| Doomed youth, you’re too beautiful | |
| All these simplicities that you know they can’t see | |
| Like you can do, doomed youth | |
| And everything’s different lately | |
| And it’s all exactly the same | |
| We know secrets and songs and temptation | |
| We know how things burn when you don’t watch the flame | |
| And the colours are hazy and fading | |
| The ideas given way to the names | |
| We are miners no more, never torn by a war | |
| Neither starving, nor struggling, nor credibly poor | |
| Oh, Doomed Youth | |
| Doomed youth. |
| You' re howling, abysseyed and broken | |
| You' re perverted and gracefully drunk | |
| But there' s nobody left in the west these days | |
| Wronged enough to be a punk | |
| Doomed youth, you' re so beautiful | |
| You never learned to be suspicious | |
| of the stones that look too precious to be true | |
| Like you, Doomed Youth. | |
| The spit at the edge of your mouth | |
| The stain at the crotch of your jeans | |
| The threeinch bruise at the crook of your arm | |
| that in the right light looks like jesus | |
| The smirk you can' t hide when you cry | |
| The care in the knot of your tie | |
| It' s really not that hard to stay alive | |
| When you' re twentyfive | |
| Oh, Doomed Youth | |
| Doomed youth. | |
| Your party and your revolution | |
| Your grand designs and adorable dreams | |
| Your silverless palms and your list of demands | |
| For concessions the world doesn' t need | |
| Doomed youth, you' re too beautiful | |
| All these simplicities that you know they can' t see | |
| Like you can do, doomed youth | |
| And everything' s different lately | |
| And it' s all exactly the same | |
| We know secrets and songs and temptation | |
| We know how things burn when you don' t watch the flame | |
| And the colours are hazy and fading | |
| The ideas given way to the names | |
| We are miners no more, never torn by a war | |
| Neither starving, nor struggling, nor credibly poor | |
| Oh, Doomed Youth | |
| Doomed youth. |
| You' re howling, abysseyed and broken | |
| You' re perverted and gracefully drunk | |
| But there' s nobody left in the west these days | |
| Wronged enough to be a punk | |
| Doomed youth, you' re so beautiful | |
| You never learned to be suspicious | |
| of the stones that look too precious to be true | |
| Like you, Doomed Youth. | |
| The spit at the edge of your mouth | |
| The stain at the crotch of your jeans | |
| The threeinch bruise at the crook of your arm | |
| that in the right light looks like jesus | |
| The smirk you can' t hide when you cry | |
| The care in the knot of your tie | |
| It' s really not that hard to stay alive | |
| When you' re twentyfive | |
| Oh, Doomed Youth | |
| Doomed youth. | |
| Your party and your revolution | |
| Your grand designs and adorable dreams | |
| Your silverless palms and your list of demands | |
| For concessions the world doesn' t need | |
| Doomed youth, you' re too beautiful | |
| All these simplicities that you know they can' t see | |
| Like you can do, doomed youth | |
| And everything' s different lately | |
| And it' s all exactly the same | |
| We know secrets and songs and temptation | |
| We know how things burn when you don' t watch the flame | |
| And the colours are hazy and fading | |
| The ideas given way to the names | |
| We are miners no more, never torn by a war | |
| Neither starving, nor struggling, nor credibly poor | |
| Oh, Doomed Youth | |
| Doomed youth. |