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Born in the woods, where breeding is a foe |
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Where one on one is a hard row to hoe |
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The only way out is a job payed really well |
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Where you don't have to think |
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But give people hell |
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Get everything told, no decision's up to you |
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Without instructions you'd never know what to do |
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Hidin' yourself in the uniform that you wear |
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It's so paradox, you're the one we should dare |
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How can you tell me |
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What is wrong or right? |
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With the tools that you wield, |
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You will die in the field |
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It is your lifestyle, |
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That you all shall yield |
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Don't play the strong |
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If it's freedom you long, |
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Now is the time |
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That you must move on |
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The clothes you wear |
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Hide the weakness of your soul |
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No comprehension no liberty at all |
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The same mistake, we should learn from history, |
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The uniform can't replace your personality |
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How can you tell me |
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What is wrong or right? |
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With the tools that you wield, |
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You will die in the field |
|
It is your lifestyle, |
|
That you all shall yield |
|
Don't play the strong |
|
If it's freedom you long, |
|
Now is the time |
|
That you must move on |
|
With the tools that you wield, |
|
You will die in the field |
|
It is your lifestyle, |
|
That you all shall yield |
|
Don't play the strong |
|
If it's freedom you long, |
|
Now is the time |
|
That you must move on |
|
With the tools that you wield, |
|
You will die in the field |
|
It is your lifestyle, |
|
That you all shall yield |
|
Don't play the strong |
|
If it's freedom you long, |
|
Now is the time |
|
That you must move on |
