In the city streets where I was born. People bowed their heads from dusk till dawn. Never realized the potential of their lives. Till the reaper came to cut the corn.
Locked out of Eden for failing the test. They just can't live like all of the rest. Speakin' in tongues without any rhyme. Ragged outcasts on the wastelands of time.
When I was a young boy. I lived for rock 'n' roll. Spent our time playing gigs. And traveling on the road. . And we didn't have much money. And the gigs were sometimes rough.
Forty thousand headmen couldn't make me change my mind. If I had to take the choice between the deaf man and the blind. I know just where my feet should go and that's enough for me.