Don't pack your bags
|
don't bring your things
|
just leave them all behind
|
Don't you worry about a letter
|
left for someone else to find
|
No explanation needed
|
to define what we have done
|
We've mapped our course
|
we've set our sights
|
crossed hairs on everyone
|
|
Today it's you and me
|
and we're blowin up the world
|
We'll climb it's highest peak
|
and watch it fall apart
|
We are the end result
|
we've forged our destiny
|
to rebuild it all again
|
|
Spray paint begins to dry
|
the message soon becomes
|
So obvious that this
|
walking adolescent death trips tired of doin time
|
They are the reversal
|
they are silent
|
they are one
|
They are everything you made them
|
assassination of the young
|
|
Today it's you and me
|
and we're blowin up the world
|
They'll write about us all
|
if they get out alive
|
We are the end result
|
we've forged our destiny
|
to rebuild it all again
|
|
You medicate into submission
|
A sleeping monster needs no attention
|
You bring me up to bring me down
|
You knew one day I'd come around
|
This wasteland be our playground
|
be our temple
|
be our salvation
|
|
We'll fill the seas with gasoline
|
and shoot the sun right out the sky
|
The spark of our imagination
|
will keep all hope from running dry
|
They'll write about us all
|
if anyone gets out alive
|
to build it all again
|
|
-----------------
|
The Kids
|
Strung Out |