They try to kill the president
They try to put a shiny bullet in his head
He leave a resident
He couldn't pay the bill and wound up dead
I am not above this
Who put these thoughts in my head, in my head?
I could grow to love this
Who put this gun in my hand, in my hand?
They want to know where the money went
They'll break a bone for every dime you spent
They'll cut your throat for the hell of it
They're going to cover you in wet cement
I am not above this
Who put these thoughts in my head, in my head?
I could grow to love this
Who put this gun in my hand, in my hand?
With lives in his hands
I see why he loves this
He thinks he's a God
Not even God is above this
Now you see why I couldn't love this
I am not above this
Who put these thoughts in my head, in my head?
I am not above this
Who put this gun in my hand, in my hand?
I could grow to love this
Who put this gun in my hand, in my hand?
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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