hold up the firing line
|
hold steady on the trigger's time
|
walk away counting backwards from nine
|
holdin' his breath so to start his own dying
|
|
[CHORUS:]
|
time served
|
to the ones that left you here
|
|
no people here, only names
|
soon to be put to numbers so it's one and the same
|
it's anyone's game as long as the fire flickers
|
the throat stickers, they place their bet
|
the trouble is that no one's added it up quite yet
|
cause when they do, when they do it'll be a
|
|
riot and the wire is down
|
hold up for the fury to sound
|
hold up you head from the ground
|
or they'll keep you on it
|
|
your time's served
|
to the one's that left you here
|
|
from tower to wall to guard to guard to wall
|
ever ready for th fire to fall
|
the confiners haven't seen the sun since
|
the lifers let got of their irrelevent innocence
|
|
but long before a single round was shot
|
word was spread from block to block to cell block
|
they're going to take him
|
and make an example of him for the escapees to fear
|
|
the incoming of the
|
incoming of the gun
|
oncoming of the year
|
you either die on the inside or trying to get out
|
the choice is yours, the choice is here
|
|
-----------------
|
Time Served
|
| Dispatch |
