Out Of Hand

Fools gather round to watch me bleed But there are things you'll never see To protect and serve one nation under god A nation in which no-one's free Their flesh begins to rot What's left of what they've got A boring life is getting old Mischief won't

Shiny silver faces, coloured paper falling into their hand. Never to be seen again it must have been a one night stand. Up until the dawn I could have sworn that everything was alright. Thieving bastards stole my life and legged it off into the night