| Go on to the street to the cars in the pouring rain
|
| Go on to the bus, left us in the dust and the flames
|
| And when the son meets the father
|
| It’ll be something smarter for the pain
|
| But you will always be the same
|
| You will always be the same
|
| Go on little girl, feet twirl, go and make him smile
|
| Go on like the rumbling drums of the march of time
|
| And when the son meets the dad
|
| It’ll be pretty bad for the pain
|
| But you will always be the same
|
| You will always be the same
|
| You will always be the same
|
| Go on to the ones with the smoking guns in the heat
|
| Go on to the wars we won, they came home, they made us
|
| And when the father meets the son
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| And the blood makes us better than the game
|
| You will always be the same
|
| You will always be the same
|
| You will always be the same |