There¡¯s a war, there¡¯s a clash of sorts
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Dead ahead
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It¡¯s foreign but it¡¯s real
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Knock, knock, knock
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There it sits taxing every move
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Your world son
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So either get your gun or clean theirs
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With the neck of your ego on the chopping block
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Sugar memories bring you back to a time when
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Your loudest care was a high chair
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Not a number or a name for you to make
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This is it ¡®cause luck moved out last week
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No more camp
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So shine your saber well
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Before you kill a panzer tank with it
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Like you told everyone you would
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Good bye
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Bend and spread or be dead with no history
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So live for the luxuries
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Cause you can¡¯t be a person with your head iced off.
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Systems
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| Urge Overkill |
