Next In Line - Off With Their Heads

born on the southside, you live alone

four walls and a roof but’s always cold

look out the window and there is nothing to see but, a riot torn city and the

death of your country and

your chilled to the bone with no possessions to call your own yet you control

your rage and you resist the crime because your the next in line

Out the back door and to corner store

all you want is a drink and nothing more

sit on the stoop and let the liquor soothe your pride before you go inside

you in cut in front and now your the next in line

you never thought you’d lead a life of crime

freedom’s the only thing you need but the truth is something few understand and

an unwelcome reality now it’s dark and black and sad and gone you express and

repress the thing gone wrong and you want to be the man who ran away and you

wish you could back to yesterday

now he’s in her room and he’s about to lie so you pull the gun and squeeze the

trigger and let the bullets fly…