They caught wind of the weak and tied him to a tree today Paul's father says they're pests, destined to just be strays They broke his little back with a little game they played Boys will be boys, isn't that what grown ups say?
And I just stood there silent, rooted to the spot Marveling at how brave I'm not, how brave I'm not
Don't you see? It's already too late for them Where are men of action, can't they do something? The sun was growing faint and slipping from God's hand The day refused to wait and rushed to bury its head into the sand
If I could only get up, stand up for myself I have to join the Little Brutes, sadly, I'm not bullet-proofTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
