| Watching anvils falling all around
|
| And they break our bones when they hit the ground
|
| The siren screams without a sound
|
| So we numb ourselves with drink and drown
|
| Got to clock in, bar code and name
|
| Zeros and ones, compose the game
|
| And the roof’s on fire but stops the rain
|
| So clench your fists, enjoy the pain
|
| Think back to the ways of yesterday
|
| The «I"in team raised renegade
|
| In punk rock clubs and razor blades
|
| Where throwaway kids scream serenades
|
| We lost control again
|
| We lost control again
|
| We lost control
|
| Gotta find a way to make amends
|
| Rewrite the end
|
| Take back what time has stole
|
| We are the angry, the innocent
|
| We are the hungry, the discontent
|
| We are the marquee, the one percent
|
| We are the bourgeoisie of arguments
|
| (Here we go, here we go, one time)
|
| Dropping down a well that time forgot
|
| With scars that show that we care a lot
|
| In the sky we dreamt like a juggernaut
|
| Of the things we’d do and what we sought
|
| But one by one we fall the same
|
| How much to lose, not much to gain
|
| So have your hope hop another train
|
| And bleach yourself but the strain remains
|
| Think back to the ways of yesterday
|
| When we never even had to get paid to play
|
| Had a backpack filled with a lot to say
|
| But the words have all been thrown away
|
| We lost control again
|
| We lost control again
|
| We lost control
|
| Gotta find a way to make amends
|
| Rewrite the end
|
| Take back what time has stole
|
| We are the angry, the innocent
|
| We are the hungry, the discontent
|
| We are the marquee, the one percent
|
| We are the bourgeoisie of arguments
|
| (We won’t wait)
|
| We’re the lost, but we’ve found
|
| (We can’t wait)
|
| Alarms are calling
|
| (We won’t wait)
|
| We’re not the fallen, the underground
|
| You won’t recognize us now
|
| We are the angry, the innocent
|
| We are the hungry, the discontent
|
| We are the marquee, the one percent
|
| We are the bourgeoisie of arguments
|
| We lost control again
|
| We lost control again
|
| We lost control
|
| Got a lost hope requiem
|
| And we’re wrecking 'em
|
| There’s no use settlin'
|
| So when will the waiting end
|
| If we don’t pretend like a shotgun awakening
|
| To blow off a pin-downed limb
|
| Shed your skin cause the day is shuddering
|
| So tie off the bleeding end and start again
|
| The streets are barreling
|
| With reason to reinvent our miscontent
|
| The sound grows deafening
|
| We want control again
|
| We want control again
|
| We want control
|
| Gotta find a way to make amends
|
| Rewrite the end
|
| Take back what time has stole
|
| We are the angry, the innocent
|
| We are the hungry, the discontent
|
| We are the marquee, the one percent
|
| We are the bourgeoisie of arguments
|
| (We won’t wait, no)
|
| We were the lost, but we’ve found
|
| (We can’t wait, no)
|
| Alarms are calling
|
| (We won’t wait, no)
|
| We’re not the fallen, the underground
|
| You won’t recognize us now
|
| We are the angry, the innocent (hey, hey, hey)
|
| We are the hungry, the discontent (hey, hey, hey)
|
| We are the marquee, the one percent (hey, hey, hey)
|
| We are the bourgeoisie of arguments (hey, hey, hey)
|
| We want control again
|
| We want control again
|
| We want control (the underground, you won’t recognize us now)
|
| We want control again
|
| We want control again
|
| We want control (the underground, you won’t recognize us now) |