If hate is the spawn of resentment, use some protection
To cleanse out that infection
Don't care for flashy ways or never-ending days
Publicity is the bastard child of glory anyway

What rises with the sun will darken the moon
So never count your fortunes too soon
When this life ends you'll realize
It's not over until it's through

Common sense is not so common
For the common man at ease
Itching for an act of servitude
Scheming just to please

You've got to be the change you wish to see in the world
Fight for whatever freedoms you need to believe
I would rather die on my feet
Than live on my knees