Made a choice: practice and preach
Now you're not as far as you thought you'd be right now
All four walls closing in, it's stifling
There's only so much one man can do
Every time I bite more than I can chew myself
Lockjaw and I grind right through, it's murder
Head to the city two nights a week
With a thinline P in the shotgun seat, we go
And scream our goddamn heads off at the shows
Stay the true course but it's out of reach
Gain more ground when you lie and cheat
Somehow we all accept this as a given
Do what they think they need to do
Broken backs beneath their shoes
Until they figure out that isn't living
Head to the city two nights a week
With a thinline p in the shotgun seat, we go
And scream our goddamn heads off at the shows
It's pure fire
Spit our guts through old mic screens
Beatdown hearts and primal screams
Pure fire
Fill your lungs up, force it out
Take your life back with every shout
It's pure fire
Unleash your rebel yell
So every eardrum will ring in hell
It's pure