We're at an age where the night spills after hours Experience wears thin from time and use I'm getting restless. I'm signing out It's been fun fighting
I don't know what to do with myself when I'm down. Patience is paper thin, it draws blood when I'm down. Oh Doctor, Doctor! Tell me what I should do to
Face it, I'm catching all your drifts They're blowing eastward Through my door and out my window Originate in mouth, in innuendos Every word is meant
I'm locking all the doors. I'm busting up the mirrors. Reflection is a dirty thing. It seems that's all too obvious. I didn't dim the lights enough. They
wish I didn't need it. On the inside, the venom's not kind. I wish I was a little more rock and less complicated. I wish I was a little more rock. This
an agenda to his name. He calls himself my friend, but I don't want to know him. He'll be the first to step on my wounded knee. He's done it more times
't give a shit what punk has to say anymore. Man, "shit has changed". No kidding. There's no more room for me. Must reinvent the wheels that take us from A to E. No more
Make the killing and wipe the blade, As it exits out my brain. Anti-social middle name. Save it. So c'mon c'mon! Safty first and ego last. Can't compete
Forty miles from the city. Sitting in traffic isn't fun. Crucifix stabbed in soil, to a father from a son. There's ghosts on the highway. I claim. Dancing
If it wasn't for the windows, my eyes would go to shit. If it wasn't for the time I killed today, working for network affiliates... If it wasn't for the
're harder to read than the facts. There's nothing that we can do cause they're shoveling us shit colored red, white, and blue. Bombs away! For a more
Twenty-nine years into life. Some things, I still can get right. Priorities may never be straight. That's always a topic for debate. I've made up my mind
I built a room smaller than the pendulum. Future's looking cracked up. It's more than just a patch job. What can I do now? Someday I'll get the swing
I'm running on empty, I'm running on overdrive to pave the way. I'm thinking too busy, I'm thinking to overtime, But I ain't getting paid. Why do I always
Would you exist without all the fists the music clenched for you. You're dressed up like a full-bodied anarchist. Right down to your views. It's more
Blindfolded and back to the door. I'm sitting silent with these open arms ready to strange me. Cut the air out entirely. Everytime I see your face, the
How can I make this a metaphor for how you spit on this, For how you make me feel. Your 'sorry' gives as much as 'sorry' gets. The riff is in. The riff
shooting, fleeting get onto the set at night play it and repeat it if you don't then the people won't get it tonight scripted, heard it don't it just