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