Like The Lion Tears The Flesh Off

They Say That Patriotism Is The Last Refuge To Which A Scoundrel Clings Steal A Little And They Throw You In Jail. Steal A Lot And Then They Make You King.

The Only Thing I Knew How To Do Was To Keep On Keeping On

There's Not Even Room Enough To Be Anywhere/it's Not Dark Yet, But It's Getting There.../i Was Born Here And I'll Die Here Against My Will/i Know It Looks Like I'm Moving, But I'm Standing Still.

Come You Masters Of War You That Build All The Guns You That Build The Death Planes You That Build The Big Bombs You That Hide Behind Walls You That Hide Behind Desks I Just Want You To Know I Can See Through Your Masks.

Although The Masters Make The Rules For The Wise Men And The Fools, I've Got Nothing, Ma, To Live Up To.