Each word bitten, every 'fuck' is pronounced
with conviction written, injustice announced
and every hand that feeds is bitten if it steals from hungry mouths
convention be damned, I know who I am, and some words are just too fucking loud
they can't be ignored
twice our bitter life-time tucked tightly in their belts,
but spat and bit in such a way that you know just how it felt
what it means to be a man and what it means to refuse it
things I learned along the way while listening to their music
so laugh then cry, well try but laugh again
throw your hands up in relief that twenty years won't end their reign
The reign of unending terror

the reign that brings us warning
the reign that breaks the sky and gives us hope for the end of this long night
red sky, morning light
the truth is, some days I don't have any morals at all
the truth is I left them in the men's room, at the truck-stop, in the second stall
and that's the kind of enemy, that obscures the very core of me
my shallow lacking, and disbelief (steps back while) flipping through the sleeves
of CD books with cold-cocked hooks, flip the kings uplift the rooks, spit on the diamond cuffs of the real crooks
when you look in my eyes who do you see?
when you look in my eyes who is it?