The future teaches you to be alone
The present to be afraid and cold
So if I can shoot rabbits
Then I can shoot fascists
Bullets for your brain today
But we'll forget it all again
Monuments put from pen to paper
Turns me into a gutless wonder
Then your children will be next
Then your children will be next
Gravity keeps my head down
Then your children will be next
Then your children will be next
And on the street tonight an old man plays
With newspaper cuttings of his glory days
Then your children will be next
Then your children will be next
Then your children will be next
Then your children will be next
And on the street tonight an old man plays
With newspaper cuttings of his glory days
Composição: James Dean Bradfield / Sean Moore
