Žodžiai dainai: Eve 6. Eleventeen. Propaganda.

I passed by some familiar
faces,
But they flipped me off &
cursed my name,
I watched the hippies raise
their signs
and I saved my tears for
another time

I just wish that they could
understand
that I had no choice whether
or not
to put a gun in my hand
I just wish that they could
understand
I don't give a shit about being
a man