| In the cold of morning before the rooster dawn
|
| Offer him a blind fold, one last bit of song
|
| No more scattered pieces, no more counting falls and
|
| Running into walls
|
| He was but a baby, a little less than small
|
| Already up and running as if to hear a call
|
| Just a little human child, barely broken from the wild
|
| Running Into walls
|
| Get an education, learn the rules of the game
|
| Money and salvation, don’t we know its all the same
|
| Along comes another human child
|
| Feeling hungry, feeling wild
|
| Running into walls
|
| Some of us are lucky, born on the good side of the line
|
| But everyone wants that candy, for some it’s harder to resign
|
| Along comes a human child, Mad & hungry going wild
|
| Running into walls
|
| He found himself a gun, power for the kill
|
| Power in the blood, hey this is not for fun
|
| Just a little human child
|
| Barely broken from the wild
|
| Running into walls
|
| In the cold of morning before the rooster dawn
|
| Offer him a blind fold, one last bit of song
|
| No more scattered pieces, no more counting falls
|
| Running into walls |