Written by Matthew Brasch/Daniel Jason Campbell/Kenneth Alrich Cavaliere/Michael Kennedy/Joshua James Martin/Nicholas Steinborn
Verse 1:
E Like a burning monk C#m You're my light flare out in the dark G#m You're my constant call to arms Took the blindfold off A E They'd left chalk outlines where the future was C#m It's a goddamn war of attrition G#m It's a death by a thousand cuts A And if these motherfuckers made it to heaven They burned the bridge when they got acrossE They're gathering anchors B They're gathering rope A You push into heaven all alone E They're grabbing your ankles B They won't let you go A The ebb and the distant flow B They're cutting your wings off A Built you ceilings out of stained glassVerse 2:
E C#m Well you cut like gravel in my skinned knee G#m The wound will close eventually A E You'll stay as a reminder of how fucked this world can be C#m Held your funeral on a Tuesday G#m Holy waters, November cold A The kid who pulled the trigger Knew tomorrow couldn't promise him hope( B A B A ) ( B A B A )E B All these bastards are gathering rope A You push into heaven all alone E They're grabbing your ankles B They won't let you go A The ebb and the distant flow B They're cutting your wings off A Built your ceilings out of stained glass B They were cutting your wings off A I was staring at my idle hands C#m Maybe I could've done something A Maybe I could've made a differenceFinal C#m They're gathering anchors B They're gathering rope A You push into heaven all alone E They're gathering anchors B They're gathering rope A You push into heaven all alone No, all alone Final C#mBridge:
C#m A John Wayne with a God complex Tells me to buy a gun E Like shooting a teenage kid is gonna solve any problems Like it's an arms race C#m Like death don't mean nothing A To know the heavy price of living poor E Walled in by red lines, backed into a corner Not knowing growing up what it's like to belong here in America C#m A If everyone's built the same then how come building's so fucking hard for you? E It's something we're all born into C#m Nothing's left up to gray A It's black or white and sometimes black and blue E B It's something we're all born into, whoa-oh C#m Now I know what's in a name Not just my father A Three-fifths a man makes half of me Why should I bother? E B Merchants of misery stacking the deck Fuck your John Waynes Fuck your God complex C#m I have everything in front of me A But can't reach far enough To touch those fever dreams E They call America I am the ghetto's chosen one B The privileged bastard son