You were the razor edge poet. From a punk lost generation. Shaking off praise, so humble man. Shattering expectation. You're relevant right now. More so than you were yesterday.
An elaborate con of the common man. Propelled by your massive media plan. I can see your hostel takeover, greed, and your lies. Turning what I love into what I despise.
We're not singing bounce, we're not getting dirty. Not concerned with getting the party started right. Throwing darts as we see fit, the music today we will hit.
I can't stop these visions in my head. When I wake up in the morning and I get out of bed. When the revelry is calling me and I don't want to rise. I roll around and write it down and then to my surprise.
Loser, some times I feel, but I know it's not real. I've told myself this a million times before. Time and time again, I try to see things 'til the end.
(Chorus). He's just a drunk. An old salty dog. Stagger, you drink and then fall. Unaware that your life is held up against the wall. Aching, just dying inside.
So when the smoke and the fire of anther attack slowly drift away. Can anyone seem to find the appropriate words to say?. When the pain of loss and sudden change conjure family strife.
Our beloved democracy is now six feet under, yes it is. Cause you got perception managers selling war blunder, they do. There is not an outlet they can't reach.
Savin Hill my starting point. Down the beach with a few beers. Didn't know what life had in for us. Starting out at St. Margarets. Up there on that lonely hill.
Two hundred Irish go into Mexico. To fight a battle of manifest destiny. Driven by their Catholic conscience. They chose to rise and do what's right. Joined up with the natives for the fight.
Walking on a summer day down in Warland Square. When we came upon a begging flower with dreadlocks in her hair. A younger girl, cyanotic too soon. She shoots us back a look, keep that pity to yourself.
The stain of these times. Cuts right into our lives. These conflict days they kill. They wear us down. Blood stains the ground. . The belt it has tightened.
Neponset neighborhood landscape. You loomed larger than most. Owned scholastic and academic achievements. All which you did boast. The world was in the palm of your hand.
Was a man of meek demeanor. Now he's over the edge. Insincerities and deceit. Called off any old pledge. Saying one thing, doing another. Unacceptable, you're not his brother.
Today I realized. I need more to say. So don't take this so serious. I wrote it in a day. . See me looking at you. Hear me I can hear you. Listen to me I know.
There you go just sitting on your ass. Not realizing that your future's past. You make me sick with your computer fix. It's time to put down the toys and forget the tricks.
Not without a purpose and it's not without a fight. I've got three tales to tell you so please sit tight. It's the story of three underdogs who've grown to see their light.
Some people will go for years, without ever finding their place. Not us we are the lucky ones, for we know who we truly are. Not privy to abstract thinking, reality's a trusted friend.
For as long as I remember. I ran a life of crime. Harmed everyone that I know. Stolen what's not mine. Problems solved through violence. Feelings dulled with booze.
Locked and loaded one more time. Seeing if you can read between my lines. As I sing my lover by. I keep dreaming of things to say. In one ear and it's sit or stay.