LYRIC

We're full of shit. Anger ain't a mood, it's a goddamn way of life. It's why we drive twenty straight hours up the five. To play for twenty kids in the basement of a house. Kids that are angry and alive. That threaten us with knives. But one black eye does not a blind man make. No. Cause I feel fed-up every morning and let-down every night. And in a world with so much wrong, there must be better things to fight. Cause And the truth is I've wasted too much time making excuses for this stupid music of mine. When there's still popes and wars, I think my mother's got it right: we're all just angry, angry kids with the most shortsighted of lives. One black eye does not a blind man make. There's more to fight than big mouth kids like me. Punch my face until your fingers break. It's time to fight the real enemy. Anger ain't a mood, it's a goddamn way of life

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