Broken down city rat patrols the cars and caravans observing all the understanding members of the race of rat kings.
He's got the keys to sunken streets beneath the sleeping sleeveless sleaze that haunts the stealing student scene.

They see that it's not ok to be a winner if you're free.

Cuz winners win a life of living up to their careers beginning.
The things they thought would free them: singing, stinging in their arm.
They trap their selves, map their health, record every lap.
They felt the happiness they thought would help keep from doing harm.

I know you hurt yourself.
But why not someone else?

Cuz you're a loser, moving user, manipulative intruder choosing the abusing useless path. Faking out the breaking down of your brain making no sound as it waits to take you to the ground.

I've got a dream and I am gonna make it die.

You know I want a lawn to mow. I'll dream, get high, leave, die real slow to think I'm holding on to something that's already gone.

I've been alone and lonely known my own meaninglessness has grown.
I've got a dream and I am gonna make it die.

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