| You jump in front of the bullet
|
| The family put you to it
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| You might survive the first thousand shots
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| Back to the end of the line
|
| You hold the will to survive them
|
| Answer to those you have failed
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| Time to clean your room and show you are able to stop
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| Beating yourself down
|
| You’ve arrived
|
| A wealth of respect, a world of a regard
|
| You’ve always belonged
|
| You have to go on
|
| I just want you to feel the gun in your hand
|
| You used to hold aspiration
|
| You couldn’t see the limitations
|
| Even in your youth you were unsurpassed
|
| But driven by grief and it couldn’t last
|
| Sometimes promise
|
| Sometimes goodbye
|
| Confessed to all through bloodshot eyes
|
| I just want you to feel the gun in your hand yeah
|
| It only breaks you until you get off
|
| I’m not gonna watch you kill yourself to live
|
| It’s all so average until you get off
|
| I’m not gonna wait here until the body’s cold
|
| I was young too I felt just like you
|
| Hated authority, hated all my bosses
|
| Thought they were full of shit
|
| Well it’s like they say:
|
| If you’re not a rebel at the age of twenty,
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| You got no heart
|
| But if you haven’t turned establishment by thirty,
|
| You got no brains
|
| Because there are no storybook romances
|
| No… fairy tale endings
|
| so before you run out to change the world,
|
| (I just want you to feel the gun in your hand)
|
| Ask yourself:
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| What do you really want? |