Freds Got Slacks

The Flatliners

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    Destroy positions of power and what stands between you and the final stretch
    Where you find out what happens in the end
    Man on the corner preaching, screaming the devil is coming!
    And the earth will plummet to the ground again
    I hope to death that no one knows and they don't find a way
    To bullshit, cheat, lie, and steal
    Then run away through the trenches and the streets
    The famous alleyway
    I've got a feeling that today is not my day
    The facts have been stated, they're implausible
    The cause of the week
    Too heavy for a freak like me
    Like me
    Hit the brick running with the rhythm in your feet
    And all your feelings in a fist
    It's too much to resist when you're only 16
    Waiting for the weekend train to come
    Right outta here
    6 strings to the wind and I'm gone
    Head on collision with the barrel of our social forms gun
    When the shells hit the ground, it's time to go home

    Apathetic, were pathetic
    It's easy to see
    The fires ignited and the flames have gotten the best of me
    Hands up, fists high
    For everyone to see!
    Were destructive, so disruptive
    It's gotten to me
    Lets hit the streets and show em what we mean
    HEY!
    We've got the heart and mind to mix in with the gasoline

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    Hopping along the border of whats rude and whats insane
    It's the same as everyday
    Everyday is the same
    Still haven't found the answers to the questions I've been asking
    And nothing strikes resemblance to the memory I remember
    Those days, didn't they seem so long ago?
    Free to go wherever we wanted
    Free to say no
    End of the line and were really wasting time
    End of the like and theres no one left behind us
    Hit the cobblestone road
    Theres precision in the distance
    Who gives a fuck if hes a metro-sexual?
    I know you did, cause you're a hetero-molestico
    Theres malice in the words that first seemed oh so comfortable
    Finding a new way can be devastating to some
    Look on the bright side, you're not the one toting a gun
    You wipe your ass like everybody does
    And ask for my reasons
    Well I've got none

    Hands up
    Fists high

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    Composición: The Flatliners

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