Three years drip down the drain And we're drowning in it all We bought the ticket And our legs are nothing But a bloody tangled mess Because we've been running non-stop In hopes to find what we're looking for We can not keep hiding in songs and ignoring sound This can is tradition And the not is freedom Yeah, right Dead presidents represent us Not fools and lovers So what will it be The king or the captain? So what will it be The fist or the mouth?