Traditions Letra

We all have our own axe to grind.
When it's worn down, Don't fall in line.
We all have our own trials to bind.
When you're worn out, Don't close your mind.
We write to inform, Not to validate how we feel,
Because they expect us to conform,
To their selfish ideals.
Everyone has been docked out into the streets,
Gasping for air, We can't afford to breathe.
Heavy lies the head that wears the crown.
United, we'll swindle it back and bring hope with a new sound.
Go.