Was written on the concrete The words weren't on my tongue So we don't talk about it Day nor evenin, fashion or superman Just little warped people, with little black minds
Well I wasn't sure just what to think Don't wanna, don't wanna talk anymore Somebody swing, don't wanna talk no..no
Would you just walk around it
Set your balance, keep your head down, Watch your anger boy, realize you could know This is balance, look for reason, This don't have to make sense to anybody at all Then everybody, won't you swing
No still don't mean nothin Words written all over the concrete Rage gets you out, so you swing More from Matchbox Twenty