A Will Away Matchstick
You'd spin head if you knew who I was
Bagged feet, and an acid tongue
Ripped tabs for a box-top crutch
We went back for another one
Here to lay their feelings at your feet
Beady eyes form a line around the street
Hey –
Come on let's burn it all down
You'd drop dead if you knew what I know
Rich kids at a trap-rap show
They told me Rock and Roll
It died out a long time ago
Place the names to faces that you meet
Parasites in the company you keep
Hey –
Come on let's burn it all down
Wait...
I need a matchstick
Adam lights the fuse despite cold feet
And the wind sent it sailing down the street
Smеll of soot and ashes, never еnding
Paralyzed, paranoid
You'll stop pretending
I need a matchstick...
I need a matchstick...
Hey –
Come on let's burn it all down
Wait...
I need a matchstick
