| Rifle |
|
I'm not the one who is pointing the finger, you hypocrite
We're not true enough to be part, but I speak of what I have learned
I haven't a flag to be burned
Born wrong
Descend upon us, you're only honest, but are you an artist
Or just a preacher to those, who want to hate everything you told them to see
Everything you told them to hear, we simply ask them to listen and express what we feel
Born right
Rifle me
Playing on their sympathy you're the one waving the flag
You're the one starting the war, we're not compromising or trying to conquer
|
| |
|
