Tekstovi: Snot. The Box.

Yesterday, I was just a boy
In times of youthful hero worship
My kind have been molded
By images on the screen

Brought up to emulate the big guns
Another guest on death's best show
The influence cuts deeper than mom knows
Electric waves the demon's fly

Now could we just be bred to kill or die
There must be something else
The blame I place on myself
Behind tired eyes the demons stir

The tears go un-cried

In the box, doin' time, now that I'm grown
Abandoned childhood toys
But still what danger have I retained?
To grab the brass ring

And go in for the kill and covet the goods
You know dem got for murder
In the box doin' time
And the minds are locked down