Song-X

Only 21 with his whole life ahead of him, Thinking about the friends he had, Now that they're six feet under, Paying the price for a blunder, Can you feel his pain; it's crashing like thunder. But he rolls on, the gun by his side, The bullet in the chamber and the fear he can't hide, Another punk s*cker steps into the focus, Making him disappear, with a little hocus-pocus. Just another punk s*cker from the boulevard farm. Your mind is blind, and your eyes can't see. My silence, bred violence as I sit here on the inside Deceived, taking for granted the air that I breathed, Names carved deep inside these time scared walls, What's up boo? Step up; check in, you better start praying, Is it your time to fall?