| Hey, child, you’ve got blood
|
| On your doorstep
|
| Long eyes, cheap talk
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| Strange voices
|
| How long can you hold
|
| Hold down your resistance?
|
| Hey, child, you don’t know
|
| No, baby, you don’t know your own existence
|
| And in the ruins of the nights that we went
|
| Writin' numbers on our arms
|
| But when you wake up to find there’s nothin' left
|
| Don’t you know your future’s almost gone?
|
| Hey, child, you better get right on you
|
| Hey, child, you got so many better things to do
|
| Hey, child, you’ve got dogs
|
| Dogs that guard your weakness
|
| Pull in all your wounded men
|
| Oh, baby, don’t you know that they’re useless?
|
| Your lamp is burnin' low, and the streets are cold and wet
|
| You’re just a face without a name
|
| But when you wake up and find there’s nothin' left
|
| Oh, honey, baby, ain’t it a shame?
|
| Hey, child, you better get it right on you
|
| Hey, child, you got so many better things to do
|
| Hey, child, no, you ain’t found it yet
|
| Hey, child, you better quit placin' all those bets
|
| Hey, child, no, no, no, no, no
|
| Hey, child, you’re gonna get it right on you
|
| Hey, child (Woah) |