I'm a dealer in the middle. No left or right side sitter. I never make it going solo. But when I'm lying on my pillow. . I'm a sugar-fisted pistol shoot a worldwide missile.
Thoughts roam my mind as headlights shine. Piercing the darkness around. The wheels roll on like the days of my life. Into the future ahead. . I watch the cars go past as they go the other way.
I walk the line, its' all I can do to live my life, I stand accused.. There comes a time when you must decide are you dying to live, or you living to die?.
these days in time will always be. close to us for eternity. times are good, but time is short. we'll never forget the important part. we're free to be what we want to be.
with machineguns in the hand police ask about my pass. welcome to moscow dont you try to make a mess. drink milkfiltered vodka get by train to the show.
the kids today it seems to me. they grow up way too fast. the kids today they pass the buck. and blame you for their mess. THE KIDS TODAY. doing drugs, drinking beer, passing out - not me.
And it was '93 back in mid July. When we both tumbled to the ground. Just a boy and a girl growing up in a southern town. . Standing in your arms out on the doorstep.
vicious words tear friends apart. i know it brings us down and i know its all my fault. i speak before i think, that's a big mistake. one misguided word, man that's all it takes.
We've got to stand together. We've got to work together. We've got to stick together. Together overcome. . We've got to walk together. We've got to live together.
I hope I never stop struggling. Check my pulse. I want to always give in to giving away. Feeling the pressure. Sweat on my brow. My calling card is working hard every day.
He's a roller coaster. She's a bulldozer, oh yeah. That's too bad,. That she's a nasty bruiser. And he's a perfect loser. His father was all yellow. Her daddy was a boozer.
get up in the morning, go downtown, work 9 to 5. this is our town. get off work, go midtown, hang out all night. this is our town. our town. this town is our town.
On the run, under the gun.. Wanted dead or alive for the things I've done.. Misunderstood for the common good.. But bullets don't reason when they call you the kid..
They call us problematic, they can call us what they will.. They don't understand the way we feel.. Call us hopeless, call us restless, go ahead now, call us tools..
I pack my bags, and I'm leaving today.. I hit the road, and make my getaway.. Cause they'll control you.. They'll put you up on the shelf.. You gotta break away, so you can be yourself..