Lyrics
I wish a hero would come to save the day
Mine was gone on my birthday
Here comes a storm we just can't stay
Lord please save our souls
I hear the rain it pounds on my front door
Someone said son that less is more
But lately less is more than I can afford
And I'm probably just better off dead
I'll raise a banner and make a toast
To your father, son and your holy ghost
While your kids run around with holes in their clothes
And you close all your compassion inside
A friend of mine, he said to me
Happiness son, it will set you free
But freedom is something in which you must believe
So I'll just keep my head down low
And raise a banner and make a toast
To your father, son and your holy ghost
While your kids run around with holes in their clothes
And you close all your compassion inside
So I will work my hands until they bleed
For a working man is bread from greed
Greed is the measure of which you must succeed
And success it is never enough
So let's raise a banner and make a toast
To your father, son and your holy ghost
While your kids run around with holes in their clothes
And you close all your compassion inside
WRITERS
Zach Schmidt
PUBLISHERS
Lyrics © ROUGH TRADE PUBLISHING, O/B/O DistroKid
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