You'd spin head if you knew who I was.
Bagged feet, and an acid tongue.
Ripped tabs for a box-top crutch.
We went back for another one.
Here to lay their feelings at your feet,
beady eyes form a line around the street.
Hey –
Come on let's burn it all down.
You'd drop dead if you knew what I know.
Rich kids at a trap-rap show.
They told me Rock and Roll,
it died out a long time ago.
Place the names to faces that you meet.
Parasites in the company you keep.
Hey –
Come on let's burn it all down.
Wait...
I need a matchstick.
Adam lights the fuse despite cold feet,
and the wind sent it sailing down the street.
Smell of soot and ashes, never ending.
Paralyzed, paranoid,
you'll stop pretending.
I need a matchstick...
I need a matchstick...
Hey –
Come on let's burn it all down.
Wait...
I need a matchstick.
This track has such a great place on this album and the shortness doesn't take anything away from that.
Love the album and have only recently found out about you guys. Through "not quite legal" means.
Got me here, though ;) Chris
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