Twenty-two years with the same damn luck
But no one can say, "You didn't learn too much"
Cause the kids who called you a fag in the halls
Are working at the shopping mall
And you remember how it felt to count
Down all the days till you could just get out
And you wrote your lyrics on your bedroom wall
But no one seemed to care at all
So we're singing..
Take me back to grade school, take me back in time
I want to color crayons outside all the lines
Take me back to high school for a second try
I want see the faces that always spit on mine
Twenty-two years, but the fact remains
No one wants to hear your songs again
But you'll keep on at it till the clock runs out
Cause soon enough they'll come around
And maybe try to redeem themselves
Cause everybody's friends when there's a band to sell
But you can't have your morals and your money too
And which one did you think they'd choose?
credits
from Broadcaster | Shot Not,
released September 10, 2011
Jesse Litwa - Guitar/Vocals
Tom Kelly - Bass
Anthony Vito – Drums
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