I was walking from my house to the end of hell’s creation
I was thinking that the end was gonna be here soon
I was listening to the hum of the age of information
I was noticing how fire’s like a rose in bloom
Slings and arrows, straights and narrows
Strike a match, we’re gonna burn this mother down
Rags to riches, miles and inches
In the end we’re gonna burn this mother down
I was basking in the glow of the institution
Just admiring the beauty of the cracks in this window
I was looking for a means to an evolution
I was wondering what your head’s doing there on my pillow
Slings and arrows, straights and narrows
Strike a match, we’re gonna burn this mother down
Rags to riches, miles and inches
In the end we’re gonna burn this mother down
Guns and ammo, SWATs in camo
Strike a match, we’re gonna burn this mother down
Exposition, intermission
In the end we’re gonna burn this mother down
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