LYRIC

As the foxes hunt,
All the chickens start to run.
Next thing I know,
My neck no longer has a front.

All the wars are me.
I won't sleep until my grave.
I am young but I am brave,
And I am not your slave.

I will swear to you now that I'm not what they say;
I have a sickness in my head that won't go away.
And by the time the bugs eat their way out of my skull,
Will you still say I love you?
Will you still want my soul?

As the lions hunt,
All the zebras start to run.
They all refuse to become
someone else's lunch.

All the wars are me.
I won't sleep until my grave.
I am young but I am brave,
And I am not your slave.

I will swear to you now that I'm not what they say;
I have a sickness in my head that won't go away.
And by the time the bugs eat their way out of my skull,
Will you still say I love you?
Will you still want my soul?

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