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So 2One

de Young Slo-Be

Just a nail through the barrel of my gun
Not the first time they don't see
Stared down through the barrel of this gun

The west coast
The east coast freight train

Pull me up through the barrel of my gun
Not the third time a-they don't see
Stared down through the barrel of that gun

The west coast
The east coast freight train

And all these walls, all these mountains
And all these minds are filled with pain.

Wheels spinning on the echo of this ground.
Twelve days until we don't see
Wheel's never thought of turning on my ground.

The west coast
The east coast freight train

Wheel's burning on the echo of your ground.
45 is what we don't see
Wheel's never thought to turn on your ground.

The west coast
The east coast freight train

And all these walls, all these mountains
And all these minds are fucking vain
You're turning blue, what you're facing
And what you say is fucking true

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