Leader Of The Ratz And The Children

cold van vs. rollins, keep our hearts lit
cause candle to the sun, which one won?
like a band of guthries we work, we write and roam
from the honest side of the fence and matchbook homes
the conquests of the useless can't buy us a witness
so vagabonds we become to glorify the distance
between the roots we forgot beyond the limbs that brace the sky
we piss thanks in the snow to pass along the light

five years in a row, we got the shit end of the stick
no sense of relief to mark off the list
our lives are the toll roads in jersey and east of chicago
the industrial tar pit of assholes

but I love it

if I could take a Polaroid of when I was at my lowest point
maybe I could kick the habit, straighten up, drop the bitch
but I was born to bleed, born to be hated, born to lead
all the rats and children to the river where they can drown with me

worrisome me, don't drown me out, the guilt is killing my mood