in the road, I'm in the right, I've got a mind to drive all night. When I get there they'll know my name. My heads blown loose all over again Fuel?s
spoil our fun watch out for sister anna she's the one who bangs the drum bang the drum now you may think i'm worried by the screwballs that i meet just to prove
, speak in rungs Spin the yarn to tie-up tired lungs No time to breathe, grab the rope and hoist, mercy me Too much to prove, what if callous hands burn
it for real Go ahead, put it on me I know that you want me So take me Read my body language I do what you like, like So prove that you're right, right
you Don't spend much time with apathy Just want you to see catastrophe That's about to be unleashed No chance for recovery Not assuming, you're proving
an extreme solution no fossil fuel mimicking exhaust rattles troublesome a madmans vast direct iron grooved world primary state average distance closer
got no plan B I don't wanna go home And give in to all these people That say I can't do it I don't wanna prove 'em all right I'll take my licks and
(for bein' so cold) Got to give you time (to be alone) Let you prove your heart is colder than mine I've come to recognize the ogres fuel the rivalry
with a Nambla stencil To prove that you're fucking babies frontin' up in a rental I knew a kid who navigated it slippery And fuel injected a speedball
other through and I would drive on to the end with you A liquor store or two keeps the gas tank full And I feel like there's nothing left to do But prove
I'll break 'em down I'll prove myself, I'll stick around I'll get through it all somehow Nothing's unreachable Don't hide Don't cover up what fuels you
feel? We pursue an illusion that isn't real P-12 psychics taking red pills to produce thrills Than predicting a coin toss a hundred times to prove skill
born in a vulgar crooked hut In the shadow of Wilson's castle Venomous scorn from a life of bitter toil In the shadow of Wilson's castle Glory esteem fueled
families Economic prison and self-hate is my birth-right, see? Fratricide, homicide, suicide, genocide They wanna kill the niggas and wetbacks silently Fueled
the grappling hook, Lets fine the bottom of this cave and close the book! The salt on my lips is an enzyme, That metabolizes reality, To fuel these
Does destroying life make you pleased? Senseless tests with nothing to prove Destruction of animals is what you choose Taxpayer's money supplies the fuel
he was coming to believe it was a hoax And that no one had ever been to the moon I thought he had a mission Dave, the moon man To prove to everyone
All your glorious battles, what did they amount to, what did they prove? All for your pride of country, all for your sacred democracy, rival national