Secondhand Lions

There’s a sickness that’s inside me, one I’m far too scared to face.

One that bites the hand that feeds and taints the choices that I make.

I no longer am a young man, but some things never age,

And I might fix myself sometime, but that will never be today.

So can you stay awake? It’s getting kind of late.

Let the sad songs play.

So let’s make this one for the young pariahs,

Heretics, hypocrites, secondhand lions.

We’re all the underdogs, you want to help us put some fuel to the fire?

I took my sadness, took my madness, took my misery and rage,

And I wrote a thousand words and spilled them all across the stage,

Never turned over a new leaf, always had to turn the page,