we were raised by wolves
and we are still wild
and we howl when the troubled wind blows
and in the tv's blue light
Oh assassins will lie
if we will just going down slow
so don't tread on me
for i am your brother
i was born with an american heart
and don't tread on her
for she is your sister
she was born with an american heart
and all the people you meet
down in the streets
may be good but they don't wanna know
so they cover their eyes
for who wants to be sad
life is sweet on the bottom of the sea
and the mothers will cry
fathers stay up all night
with a chill that goes to the bones
and if your god makes war
then he's no god i know
for christ would not send boys to die
don't you get low as hell
when the peace dove is filled
By a man with the blackest of minds
and above the den
let the sighing begin
as we're bound for the longest of roads