I did a terrible thing when I monkey-wrenched your circuitry. And when they finally got to me, I had built a monster worse than me, and far worse than you. And I have become such an ungrateful man - just to hear those words you whispered out, and I snickered in between. The check point, the boot hill, the a** in me says some things still best left unsheathed, or out come the knives. So, retire to your ant hill, and cover tire tracks, and learn to choke it back. And when they get to you, they'll see that I did a terrible thing, with a sober mind. Make no mistake; I just couldn't stop the hand. But when you're happy and you're safe, you'll do anything to keep it that way. So, do you need the baseball bat, or do you need something elite? Do you need that to feel safe? Do you need that to feel safe? 'Cause last night I took my sharpest blade, and I cut my tent another five inch slit and I make sure I get away. And when our weary heads hit our sleeping bags, the brutal honesty can tend to spill out, and me I'd like to whisk you all away - whisk you all away with my terrible mind. And when they finally get past all of your once tightly seriesed, the check, the point, the charlies. And when we finally And when they finally get past all of your once tightly seriesed, the check, the point, the charlies. And when we finally get past their doors, we can hate these sinners the way we hurt our fathers. I hear the boots in the hallway again. I did a terrible thing.