size me up and cut me down, cut me down to size up from something down to nothing, nothing in your eyes gotta be wrong, you gotta be wrong you've got to lose some time gotta be wrong, you gotta be wrong, they've got to stand on someone's pride. i can live without the praise of trust fund punks, if all the wrong moves shut me out then i don't ever want to need your love again. that old kicked feeling comes creeping back on a mission, blind submission, submission to the pack gotta be wrong, you gotta be wrong, you've got to burn some time gotta be wrong, you gotta be wrong, you're gonna swing for someone's crimes. run dry in inner circles. all i ever wanted here was a history written by the loser. if I'm nothing, give me nothing.
you've got to lose some time they've got to stand on someone else's throat (so why not mine?) "don't save your words, son, spend them everywhere it's a coward counts his words, and slips them out when the coast is clear. so lay your hateful burden down everywhere you can they don't have to like it and they don't have to understand."
gotta be wrong, you gotta be wrong, you've got to lose some time and the ones you throw away - the rejects are mine.