Kicking and screaming and clinging on.
Counting down 'til the waking sun.
It's kicking, clawing, gnawing through the noose...
or suffocate while you beg to be cut loose.
Fools believe there's a curse to hang, but I know that there's no such thing.
We're led to the gallows but we choose to swing and I've made up my mind, striking back at time.
To watch it all slip by.
Fools tell me there's a curse to hang, but I know that there's no such thing.
As a sentence to the rope from which they'll swing.
I've made up my mind, striking back at time.
I'll watch it all slip by and look at you swinging from that pole.
You didn't lose, you gave up.
Now you're reduced to this human pendulum
