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Слова
Yeah, I get it, you're an outcast
Always under attack
Always comin' in last
Bringin' up the past
No one owes you anything
I think you need a shotgun blast
A kick in the ass
So paranoid
Watch your back!
Oh my, here we go
Another loose cannon gone bipolar
Slipped down, couldn't get much lower
Quicksand's got no sense of humor
I'm still laughin' like hell
You think that by cryin' to me
Lookin' so sorry, that I'm gonna believe
You've been affected by a social disease?
Well then, take your medicine
I created the sound of madness
Wrote the book on pain
Somehow, I'm still here to explain
That the darkest hour never comes in the night
You can sleep with a gun
But when you gonna wake up and fight
For yourself?
I'm so sick of this tombstone mentality
If there's an afterlife, then it'll set you free
But I'm not gonna part the seas
You're a self-fulfilling prophecy
You think that by cryin' to me
Lookin' so sorry, that I'm gonna believe
You've been affected by a social disease?
Well then, take your medicine
I created the sound of madness
Wrote the book on pain
Somehow, I'm still here to explain
That the darkest hour never comes in the night
You can sleep with a gun
But when you gonna wake up and fight
For yourself?
I created the sound of madness
Wrote the book on pain
Somehow, I'm still here to explain
That the darkest hour never comes in the night
You can sleep with a gun
But when you gonna wake up?
When you gonna wake up and fight?
I created the sound of madness
Wrote the book on pain
Somehow, I'm still here to explain
That the darkest hour never comes in the night
You can sleep with a gun
But when you gonna wake up and fight
For yourself?
But when you gonna wake up and fight (for yourself?)
But when you gonna wake up and fight (for yourself?)
But when you gonna wake up and fight
For yourself?
Writer(s): Brent Smith, Dave Richard Bassett
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com