March
March
March right on til' sunsets gone
Cross them harbors, ol' bad dog
We don't feel that we belong
We don't need your cancer songs
And dire straits
You dye your straights
You burn the curls that hide your face
...who am I to renovate?
Who but I to sit and wait
What am I suppose to do?
Hunt my luck then duck and shoot?
Don't you fear of something new?
Don't you hear me come to you?
For dire straits
They lie you're straight
They turn the world upside for hate
...who is god to renovate?
Who but I to sit and wait
All my thoughts are garble now
Burn the whole damn forest down
I am off to harvest towns
Plant my seed, the tar has browned
Your dire straits
Don't dye your straights
Or burn the curl then lie you're straight
...who but I to renovate
Who am I to sit and wait?
Your dire straits
They lie for hate
You burn the world and hide they're face
...where is god to renovate
Who am I to sit and wait?!?!
March and
March and
March and
March and
March
And
marching on til' sunsets gone.
March and on, the Sun sets gone
March is gone, The Sun sets on.
March and go on. The sun sets gone.
Son said Gone.
Gone. Gone.