Touch fire, just to taste the truth,
say "you're gonna die young," so are you,
we chase the lightning, because we need to move,
this is our science, we've got nothing to prove.
Tell me where you're going, with that knife in your hand, yeah.
Tell me what you're thinking, boy, what do you got planned?
See I don't trust your smile, I know your daddy lets you run wild, as the wind.
I saw you touch her eyelids and I can see you want so clearly to kiss, her lips.
I got friend who walks the strip, with a gun on his hip,
his reason is this: if people caught a glimpse they won't be talking shit,
and he can rest his heavy fists, he got hands to take teeth,
he don't need quarters to coax them from lips,
to you, this is as crazy as it gets, to the man with the bruises on hands,
it only makes sense, yeah, and that's the way that he is, (tooth-taker)
and that's the way that I live.
I wasn't born in a boxcar, when I die bury me with crossed arms,
underneath the tree up in the back yard, slip that coin in my pocket, yeah,
it's a lost art, living what you're giving 'til it finally stops hearts.
When us good guys die, we hope those that survive can spin a solid lie to
make us look real hard, cause we ain't tough, tell em Stef.
(We just deal with whatever comes up)
This is for those who can't take a hit, find a hundred neighbors,
ask if they could change their life, then what would they do different,
would it be little shifts, or would it be some hidden dream,
from the bitter deep that no one even knows exists.
To me it makes sense, you can waste your time tossing blades of grass at the wind,
that you could swing fists, and if it sinks ships,
bury me at sea with my arms crossed, and a smile upon my pink lips.
Tell me this, put up your fingertips,
if you're living your life exactly the way that you wished, yeah,
and for the rest of us, with our hands on our hips,
our work is never done, we are Sisyphus.
Tell me where you're going, with that knife in your hand, yeah.
Tell me what you're thinking boy, what do you got planned?
I don't trust your smile, I know your daddy lets you run wild, wild as the wind.
I saw you touch her eyelids, and I can see you want so clearly to kiss,
kiss, kiss, kiss her lips.
Touch fire, just to taste the truth,
say "you're gonna die young," so are you,
we chase the lightning, because we need to move,
this is our science, we've got nothing to prove.
Touch fire, just to taste the truth,
say "you're gonna die young," so are you,
we chase the lightning, because we need to move,
this is our science, we've got nothing to prove.
Touch fire.