MAKING THE MOTHER OF ALL OMELETTES HERE JACK CANT FRET OVER EVERY EGG
Standing here
I realize
You are just like me
Trying to make
history
But who's to judge
The right from wrong
When our guard is down
I think we'll both agree
That violence breeds violence
But in the end it has to be this way
I've carved my own path
You followed your wrath
But
maybe we're both the same
The
world has turned
And so many have burned
But nobody is to blame
Yet staring across this barren wasted
land
I feel new life will be born
Beneath the blood stained sand
Beneath the blood stained sand