You're Coming Home To An Empty Space Inside Of You,

There's No Other Place.

You're Wondering Hard What You're Here For,

But Every Night You Still Walk Out That Door.



You're Just A Screwed Up Kid,

Who Doesn't Know Who He Is

Fights The Words In His Head,

Screams He's Better Off Dead.

Met A Punk With A Dis

Wants A Fight And Now You're Pissed

It's Already Too Late

Sawed Off Your Hate



What Did You Sell Your Soul For?

Was It A Gun And A Bullet And A Chance At Revenge?

You Got Props From Your Boys On The Block,

A Cross To Bear That Never Ends

What Did You Sink So Low For?

Was It The Time And The Space And The Spit In Your Face?

Props From The Cops And The Court

A Sin You Can't Erase



He Caught You Looking His Way

Hands In The Air - What The Hell'd Ya Say?

I Know Something Sad But True

That Motherfucker Was As Scared As You.



You're Just A Screwed Up Kid,

Who Doesn't Know Who He Is

Fights The Words In His Head,

Screams He's Better Off Dead.

Met A Punk Like You

What The Fuck You Gonna Do?

Point The Piece At His Eyes

You Never Realized



Sell It With A Pistol In The Sack.

They Push You So Hard, Gonna Push Right Back.

Sell It And Don't Put Up A Fight

Your Life Has Just Started But It All Ends Tonight