2122

This shit's getting
So old so quick
Hurt people hurt people
Bludgeoned with sticks
This shit's gotten
So old it's true
Stiching up our open wounds

Cuz when they fight you lose
Them in suits you in boots
Even if they don't win
They don't really lose
They perfect the rituals
Of bending lies and truths
You return home
Beat black and blue
They research and develop
Brand spanking new
Technologies of death
War machines that will chew
And spit out the folks
We ship up for a war on the moon

This shit's getting
So old so quick
Hurt people hurt people
Bludgeoned with sticks
This shit's gotten
So old it's true
Tending to our open wounds

She's been here the whole time
Even if she comes and goes
We've all shared a kiss
In some form of her glow
Aftershocks of shells
Still linger and loom
It's 2122 and some kid's
Bleeding out on the moon
Ya some kids bleeding out
On the moon

This shit's getting
So old so quick
Hurt people hurt people
Bludgeoned with sticks
This shit's gotten
So old it's true
Stiching up our open wounds

With all the suspense of a radar scene
Disheveled top brass round a radar screen
Sweating profusely on grids of neon green
The impending doom of a cute little dot
Round and round til their breathing stops
Their nerves start to freeze
As the room heats up
This is it brace for impact
Shit outta luck



Credits
Writer(s): Brandon White, Doug Clarke, Craig Munt
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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