I, The Throw Away

Made a man out of me
A killing machine
Your baby's going to die ma
Your baby's coming home
You know they put a man on the moon
Simply to prove that we all need a place to go
Where we're not known
Where we're not
And to a lesser degree
I can recall breathing easy
But the deficit rolls
Built up I suppose
Picking up the pieces
Of another fucked up reason
For selling of some freedom that was never free
Well, never abseloutely
Never abseloutely
Made a mess out of me
A killing machine
Sometimes when I need them
If I look hard enough to see them
I can find my feet
As I push against gravity
In and out of having them been
Led by defeat
So one more time's all I need

this song is about war, plain and simple, war with whom or what though? ,your baby's gonna die ma, your baby's coming home only to never be the same again, it's made a mess outta me

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