Gotta make your own rules child. Gotta break your own chains. The dreams that posses you. May blossom an bless you. Or run you insane.. . The moment is yours now.
They call him a bandit. And you know the notches. That he ought to wear on his gun. He sees you through eyes. . He's partially blinded from staring too long at the sun.
Gotta make your own rules child. Gotta break your own chains. The dreams that posses you. May blossom an bless you. Or run you insane.. . The moment is yours now.