Hit it one more. Time for our men . . . in uniform (with a price upon their heads). This is a WAR! Sober up, but call it what you want. The color changes up in the sun.
Not throwing stones at you anymore. Your name's in lights and I don't wonder . . . anymore. Anymore . . .
All my X's live with hexes, this is why I hang . . . myself with jealousy upon a fencepost half mast. Fashion: war between . . . the guilty and the guilty and the guilty and the guilty and the teen.
Not throwing stones at you anymore. Your name's in lights and I don't wonder . . . anymore. Anymore . . .
Oh yeah, I would like to . . . stay and die like mice do. I'm crying in the beer of a drunk man. I'm crying, crying, crying!
Not throwing stones at you anymore. Your name's in lights and I don't wonder . . . anymore. Anymore . . .
Oh yeah, I would like to . . . Yeah, I'd like to die like fucking mice do. I'm crying in the beer of a drunk man. And I'm crying in the beer of a drunk man.