My mouth is fullof your inspiration
Cut me, size me down for your regulation
Nothing stands so close to driving
Nothing gets tense or biting
Nothing stands in the way
It`s all right, your walls are still white
Location is everything, or so it seems
Writing down all your "wrongs" or "rights"
In a book you call your own
Stand down
Silence kills the revolution
All that remains stagnant dies
Submission is your resolve
They`ve given you all the calls
Sucker punched again
Blind