When you write about the boys
Under friendly fire
Dress 'em up in suits
And seek her to kill
Freedom of the will
Ours and yes yours
Yesterday today
Onward marching on
Come here Leon,
Don't paint your skin
To the color of confection
And turn away from every ghost you've been
And sure enough I saw your head
At the tent sale and fire auction
For a taste and a chaser
You're a solid gold debaser
Can you ever be a boy again
Or have you stopped?
Trade lost hours for a dare
Burn the water, cook the air?
And 21 is the legal age to kill yourself slowly
But 18 is the legal age to die
Would I cast my vote into the inside shit
I'm often wont to crawl - that's all
Don't leave me now to drag my chains
To a rhythm never changing
Lost from found and beaten down
When you write
About the boys
Under friendly fire
Dress 'em up in suits
And seek her to kill
Freedom of the will
Ours, and yes, yours
Yesterday today
Onward marching on
