Texty
It's someone that you'll never be
Always stay when you want to leave
It's future they couldn't see
Even then it was clear to me
My tv's like a time machine
Takes me back, 1943
Tiki torch, marching up the street
Flying flags of a dead dream
I think I figured it out
I'm gonna take what's mine
And when we self-destruct
There'll be no question why
Got on the train, started heading out
Tried to sleep, couldn't shut your mouth
Now I'm half awake in this white-washed place
A black hole off the interstate
Doesn't matter where you're from
Long as you're one of us
We'll keep on spinning 'round the sun
Till we all just turn to dust
I think I figured it out
I'm gonna take what's mine
And when we self-destruct
There'll be no question why
I think I figured it out
I'm gonna take what's mine
And when we self-destruct
There'll be no question why
Writer(s): Vincent Caruana, Alexander Amiruddin, Philip Navetta, Evan Baken, Brandon Keith Reilly
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