It's about time now that you find out your egos a coffin, so lie down. It's about time now that you put your pride away, because there's something about how the words sound when they're coming out of your own mouth that make you wonder what you think this weighs.
We're the lucky ones and we tore these days undone. We're the bastard sons who squandered every mile they let us run.
You've heard enough by now to know, there's lines to cross and lines to leave alone. You're worth a fools weight in gold until they let you go. For what it's worth I think you've got some nerve. It's what you earn and not what you deserve that keep the feet below your knees planted to the ground, so set your sights ahead and chase it down.
We're the lucky ones and we tore these days undone. We're the bastard sons who squandered every mile they let us run. If this is all a dream then I beg you to let me sleep, because I've found something worth all I've given up.
Give in, fade out. Raise the bar, or set it down, because you can't change the rules they made to suit yourself.
We're the luck ones when it's said and done. We're the bastard sons, and we tore these days undone.