|
You're gonna take a hit, to the way you've been thinkin' |
|
To find when you lose it all, you gain so much more |
|
Like battling a rip tide on the edge of an ocean, |
|
You're manic, you're treading, you panic |
|
You have to step aside to tether the storm |
|
It's a backwards war |
|
A melee like that is bound to leave a scar |
|
You drop your fists in the fight, to show the man that you are |
|
You fall in at the end of the line |
|
The more you're bowing out the more you stand in the way, |
|
Then try to take your place, but you just give it away |
|
You fall in at the end of the line |
|
You're gonna take a seat at the top of the table |
|
Where beggars, sad and low will all be allowed |
|
It's a whisper in the breeze, like trying to see the King in a Rookery, |
|
A faceless man stood out in a faceless crowd |
|
And took the sky to the ground |
|
A melee like that is bound to leave a scar |
|
You drop your fists in the fight, to show the man that you are |
|
You fall in at the end of the line |
|
The more you're bowing out the more you stand in the way, |
|
Then try to take your place, but you just give it away |
|
You fall in at the end of the line |
|
And your nerve shakes, your earth quakes, you're down. down, down |
|
And your lip breaks when the punch takes you down, down, down |
|
Cause the last place is the first place that you're found, found, found |
|
Cause the high place is the low place step down, down, down |
