Pick up the sword
Let go of the pen
Step up to the plate
As that wolf again
Air is thick
With the stench of fear
And if I can smell it
What makes you think they won’t?
Pick up the sword
Let go of the pen
Step up to the plate
As that wolf again
Lost track of the good in man
Those blankets
Were supposed to put out that fire
But we hid, how we hid under them
Staining the sheets
Smearing the sheets
Soaking the sheets
With our cowardice
Abandon ship!
Your seams are showing
Blisters from the sores
And weak links bonding
Build, tear down, build
You were born two steps ahead
Of every move
But baby, two wrongs don’t make a Reich
And, uh, my Tourette’s don’t make this right
Well, now’s your chance,
Last chance for a slow dance
Build, tear down, build
So you like those comforting sounds, huh?
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