Lost the confidence to write a song,
  So I found three simple chords
  And held them together with my weak voice
  On an out of tune guitar
  My father gave to me.
    May Elvis turn in his grave
  And Les Paul kiss my dirty, calloused fingers
  And may the likes of this song never make
  One fucking dollar,
  leave it for a demo tape
  To be played until it's broken,
  Then remembered only for what it was.
    That we gave them hell
  That we gave them hell
  That we gave them hell
    That we gave them hell
  That we gave them hell
  That we gave them hell
    To my friends and enemies who could of been anything,
  Titans and heroes who found sruvival in cause and effect.
  Behind counters,
  Behind windows,
  Striving just
  To be people
  With bitter ideals of justice.
  Do we only need to keep working because it pays rent?
  Sleeping under plastic stars glued to ceiling,
  Muscles burning alcohol and nicotine
  Every morning.
    But we gave them hell
  But we gave them hell
  But we gave them hell
    But we gave them hell
  But we gave them hell
  But we gave them hell
    There's a height beyond skyscrapers,
  There's a distance beyond the freeway,
  More than pictures in a magazine,
  More than tragedy in a rock and roll song.
  It's more than actions you know are safe to make.
  It's more than money could ever buy.
    Are we working to live and die in American cities?
  Living to work and die in American cities,
  And dying for what we worked.
    Thanks to rhyno786@hotmail.com for these lyrics