what will you do to turn this around
|
so many behind you so many before you
|
ticket in one hand gun in the other
|
what will you do which hand will you use?
|
|
came on the run and you will leave running
|
there's always someone to keep you from thinking
|
loving her desperately knowing you're leaving
|
what will you do now with no one to go to?
|
|
there are so many places to see
|
there are so many people to be
|
this country was promised to me from the start
|
|
the kids. the park. the crosshairs find their mark.
|
i think i'm the sum of what's before and what's to come
|
a saint with a scope and a holster full of hope
|
it depends it depends some stories never end
|
but mine unwinds in seconds
|
|
what will you do to save your own life
|
drink yourself brilliant, make love to your image
|
dad's on the left side, mom's on the right
|
what will you do now to keep them divided?
|
|
eyes out the window the folly of humans
|
mid-day anonymous when guns find their purpose
|
end of the country the end of the century
|
ending of everything the ending is everything
|
|
there are so many people in me
|
there are so many women to meet
|
remember me to all the ones i have lost
|
the glock is cocked. the sheep begin to drop
|
i think i'm the son of what's before and what's to come
|
|
a saint with a scope and a pocketful of dope
|
seven stars! seven stars! the kingdom is ours
|
the stairs the light the street the blue and whites
|
deep in the flat with the technicolor cat
|
and hey my varicose guilt!
|
|
-----------------
|
Mid-Day Anonymous
|
| Jets To Brazil |
