Last Day Of 1888-KIDS IN THE WAY

Crowded streets and the memories of all the faces you see You don’t know who I am when you’re looking at me Hang me tonight in the false and jaded light In the center of the square, murder’s breeding in the air We’re all innocent. The shadow’s playing with our eyes Sharpened tongues and the loaded guns of all the fortunate sons You’re the jack, back in black, ripping air from our lungs. I’d cut my heart out of my chest and attach it to my sleeve If I thought you’d think differently of me. [[Category:KIDS IN THE WAY]]

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