"From My Cold Dead Hands"

Force-fed youth watch crippled america

Dependent on things not seen in black and white

Responsibility is a dying art form

Everything is out of (gun) control

"From my cold dead hands" you said

Throw your gift into the fire

Into the fire of apathy

You play the role again and again

Smoke your last hope although you're dead

Manufactured stupidity

This image beaten into a child easily led to do the same

Television is your crutch

Fear is your god

Is this all you're worth?

A wasted opportunity

You sold yourself short

You sald yourself

Throw your gift into the fire

Into the fire of apathy

You play the fool again and again

I'll be here to clean you up

I'll be here to clean up your body

This is the death of apathy