VERSE 1 (Swamburger)
I approach life with open arms, lessons learned, toting palms that tell the future close enough to keep me out of harms bluff but can't seem to save a single thing. Who's afraid of evil's theme, constituents of time, and people's dreams? Far from the norm we appear quite average... no mask, no costume, no pre-exposed lavish. I manage to cure cats with courtesy... constant. Some oppose, uphold... backpedal my content. Imagine having power over misused authority to free the captivated but the captured ignores the intent imprint indented on forehead. Victims run from help and want more of what's force-fed. My kryptonite is that which governs bodies in the present like a president where tyranny is evident and evidence for all to see, but even with a palm to read, people trust superficial scrutiny wit more than all of we. You trust police more than we could ever be which says a lot for life and the obedience in policy, but not a single thread of your emotion is available when you're offered gifts of potential and creative view. So, in the end my super powers tend to weaken while inner demons summon humans to be them while thinking of another convenience. Apparently I'm just preaching. Ok... murder, murder, kill, kill! Now we're even.
HOOK:
(Heroes.) For the love of the people, equal standing on ground zero with you but I wanna better by-product. What are my options... honest? I want (Heroes!) But enough ain't enough when you want a way to live without wanting to give that hundred percent back cause that could be the death of another hero-hero-hero. (Heroes.) What about em? (You're my only hope to save the day.)
VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
It's a trick you stick to me,
Take my heart, wear it on your sleeve.
And toss it aside for cleaning,
Cause you soiled and spoiled the meaning.
Minus thinking twice of my gift to being
Without ever lifting a finger,
Without ever losing a dream.
I found that self-held hostages
Are stocked with ways
In popular demand for ridding of malaise.
By bidding only in the brain,
Being at ease with ideas and speech.
You wanted my advice,
Suffice to say,
Took knowing trophy held my wise at bay.
Without ever guessing for seconds
And without ever taking a day.
They refuse a move into it,
Just a step into it, simple I've been through its
Equal and intuit.
Acquainted friends they
Reach and breach my ingredient of feeling,
With seething greediest intent on killing
Questions of character coming up quick.
Sue me or sew me on armor, your wish.
Without credit sent on my way,
With only ghost of point you missed.
HOOK
I approach life with open arms, lessons learned, toting palms that tell the future close enough to keep me out of harms bluff but can't seem to save a single thing. Who's afraid of evil's theme, constituents of time, and people's dreams? Far from the norm we appear quite average... no mask, no costume, no pre-exposed lavish. I manage to cure cats with courtesy... constant. Some oppose, uphold... backpedal my content. Imagine having power over misused authority to free the captivated but the captured ignores the intent imprint indented on forehead. Victims run from help and want more of what's force-fed. My kryptonite is that which governs bodies in the present like a president where tyranny is evident and evidence for all to see, but even with a palm to read, people trust superficial scrutiny wit more than all of we. You trust police more than we could ever be which says a lot for life and the obedience in policy, but not a single thread of your emotion is available when you're offered gifts of potential and creative view. So, in the end my super powers tend to weaken while inner demons summon humans to be them while thinking of another convenience. Apparently I'm just preaching. Ok... murder, murder, kill, kill! Now we're even.
HOOK:
(Heroes.) For the love of the people, equal standing on ground zero with you but I wanna better by-product. What are my options... honest? I want (Heroes!) But enough ain't enough when you want a way to live without wanting to give that hundred percent back cause that could be the death of another hero-hero-hero. (Heroes.) What about em? (You're my only hope to save the day.)
VERSE 2 (Alexandrah)
It's a trick you stick to me,
Take my heart, wear it on your sleeve.
And toss it aside for cleaning,
Cause you soiled and spoiled the meaning.
Minus thinking twice of my gift to being
Without ever lifting a finger,
Without ever losing a dream.
I found that self-held hostages
Are stocked with ways
In popular demand for ridding of malaise.
By bidding only in the brain,
Being at ease with ideas and speech.
You wanted my advice,
Suffice to say,
Took knowing trophy held my wise at bay.
Without ever guessing for seconds
And without ever taking a day.
They refuse a move into it,
Just a step into it, simple I've been through its
Equal and intuit.
Acquainted friends they
Reach and breach my ingredient of feeling,
With seething greediest intent on killing
Questions of character coming up quick.
Sue me or sew me on armor, your wish.
Without credit sent on my way,
With only ghost of point you missed.
HOOK