Woorden: Witch Hunt. Blood-Red States. Twenty-five.

You're twenty-five and you're barely alive
Blood's still running through your body
but your spirit's long since died
You've trained yourself to keep your distance
In the sand you've drawn your line
So afraid of people's expectations
In constant battle with your mind
You have become what you hate the most
An apathetic old man with a grudge
Succumbing to life's pressures without fight
Why do you stay here?
Because your fucking pride has buried you alive
in this debris of shit blown out of proportion
in your maladjusted mind
You think that you're so fucking different
But you just tow the same old lines
Leading to this sicking ship
Living in constant fear of time
Opportunity arises and you don't care
You project an image of no hope
But I've looked into your
eyes and seen it there
You'd love to smash this
world that's put
you in the state you're in
twenty-five
It's your life
But still you try to deny
Everything you feel inside
It's time to cut their fucking line