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Style Wars

de Chuck Strangers

Now that I'm back on the east side,
Don't want nothin' with you, so go ahead and drive.
Take a drive.
As the street lights flash, I hope you see his face.
Sayin' that you no longer have a place.

It's only you and the human race.

I know I've had my chances but my tongue is tied.
The stones you throw don't hurt me but they burn me inside.
I know I'll have my chances but my hands are tied.

Your bones chill as you creep away,
But something way down inside begs you to stay.
This time around, there won't be anything left,
Except what makes you wish you were deaf.
All ends point to one beginning.
You've had your chances.
But you're not willing.

I can't pretend, anyway.
The more I try, the more I slip away.
Further away.
All that's left are twisted knots in my face,
Giving away that I no longer have a place.

It's only you and the human race.

I know I've had my changes but my tongue is tied.
The signs all point one way but I still feel empty inside.
And my hands are tied.

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