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