'Cause it's all that I want And I want to be free I got Satan riding next to me 'Cause we're all bloody freaks And we'll give you the creeps Chasing fireflies and zeroes Concrete dream (hey) I'm gonna make a scene, radio Caught burning gasoline, sleeping

I see the lifeless devils start to crawl And I don't need no lessons Everybody's doing their time The lives of some men If walls can taught to spills the lies We'll see the world through devil's eyes I maintain an addiction Been known to take it too high

It's fighting back them butterflies It's call it in the air, alright Yes sir, we want the ball And it's knocking heads and talking trash It's slinging mud and dirt and grass It's I got your number, I got your back When your back's against the wall You

The issue on the table, France is on the verge of war with England And do we provide aid and troops to our French allies Or do we stay out of it, remember My decision on this matter is not subject to congressional approval The only person you have to

It's fighting back them butterflies It's call it in the air, alright Yes sir, we want the ball And it's knocking heads and talking trash It's slinging mud and dirt and grass It's I got your number, I got your back When your back's against the wall You

'Cause I believe in a world Where we all belong And I'm so tired of seein' Every good man gone Preacher man, go tell me Where his body lies Sitting down by the river, now, child Left him there to die

Ever felt away Ever felt away with me Just once that all I need Entwined in finding you one day Ever felt away without me My love, it lies so deep Ever dream of me Would you do it with me Heal the scars and change the stars

I wanna sing you a love song I wanna rock you in my arms all night long I wanna get to know you I wanna show you the peaceful feelin' of my home There's a wren in a willow wood Flies so high and sings so good And he brings to you what he sings to you And

When the devil's angels come To take your life and lead you To the flames beneath Your headstone reads now Here lies the dead who was Hung by his head beneath us They're laying in their graves Damnation free for all A jester of sorts you stand holding

I heard you tellin' lies I heard you say you weren't born of our blood I know we're the crooked kind But you're crooked too, boy, and it shows Some get dealt simple hands Some walk the common paths, all nice and worn But all folks are damaged goods It