Three years drip down the drain
And we're drowning in it all
We bought the ticket
And our legs are nothing
But a bloody tangled mess
Because we've been running non-stop
In hopes to find what we're looking for
We can not keep hiding in songs and ignoring sound
This can is tradition
And the not is freedom
Yeah, right
Dead presidents represent us
Not fools and lovers
So what will it be
The king or the captain?
So what will it be
The fist or the mouth?