Know I'm still alive because I'm bleeding. Nine
lives and three sheets to the wind. The story goes
our hero boasts little more than a theory in its
death throes. No solace found in what I put to
ground, but I'm stronger than you know I am. This
race is fixed, just so you know. Ready, steady,
ante-up, one your mark, GO! And I know how this
cat's gonna go: wrong way, full tilt, with his
eyes closed. Reckon the wreckage and reap what's
left, pay no mind, be resigned to some fine print.
There's no guarantor of right. Every norm we know
is spite. Tempered by my fair resolve, the safest
bet's on the writer and those who never flinched.
So c'mon, c'mon, and let's Raise the stakes 'cause
I'm a contender and I'm swingin'. Raise our
glasses here's to the quitters. Thanks for giving
up. And I couldn't give a damn who's happy now
Find more similar lyrics on http://mp3lyrics.com/w4Pciting law as right from the top on down. Do you
only ever tire when you hit the ground? I feel
it... I feel my rage a thousand different ways.
Which one dare you tempt now? Big winner, Mr.
Knowtail. Breastplate and charter, back to the
wall. Still paper, and they've killed for less.
What's that they say about hedged bets? Bulls and
hammers made good neighbours... if you make 'em.
Slings and arrows fight for ploughshares, when
they need 'em most. Embrace the crimson, broad,
recoiling rage; the indignity and strife. Don't
deny what humanity exists in knee-jerk contentions
of right. Don't we ever recall discomfort? Don't
dare ever settle for parchment or other such
patrons of bloodless guile. Feast your eyes: it's
not where I lay my head, but how I sleep at night.