Sleep tight, ya morons
Photo by Daniel Hansen on Unsplash
Caulfield couldn't catch me through the rye
Old Holden missed, left me hanging on the cliff to drop and die
But I can't let go, can't let myself grow
Cause I already know about the sorrows waiting on the road below
I've seen the red and the black ahead
And I'm afraid the nightmares that haunt my head
Will escape, and I won't be able to outrun them
Boy, I see dozens of angels falling to a sad anthem
With their broken wings flapping in vain
I see The Man below, patiently waiting in his train
Ready to lead us nowhere at all in his well-oiled machine
Using our goddamn souls as gasoline
Selling us empty promises of happily ever after
While we grow numb to the kids' laughter
But I don't want to go out without a fight
Holden, why won't you throw me some dynamite?
Don't ask, you already know what I'm going to do
I'm going to blow up a wagon or two
Let The Man know what's up before my time's up
And when you hear the bang, promise me you'll raise your cup
Tell them I couldn't be bought, couldn't pay the cost
Tell them I did it for all the glory we've lost