March March March right on til' sunsets gone Cross them harbors, ol' bad dog We don't feel that we belong We don't need your cancer songs And dire straits You dye your straights You burn the curls that hide your face ...who am I to renovate? Who but I to sit and wait What am I suppose to do? Hunt my luck then duck and shoot? Don't you fear of something new? Don't you hear me come to you? For dire straits They lie you're straight They turn the world upside for hate ...who is god to renovate? Who but I to sit and wait All my thoughts are garble now Burn the whole damn forest down
I am off to harvest towns Plant my seed, the tar has browned Your dire straits Don't dye your straights Or burn the curl then lie you're straight ...who but I to renovate Who am I to sit and wait? Your dire straits They lie for hate You burn the world and hide they're face ...where is god to renovate Who am I to sit and wait?!?! March and March and March and March and March And marching on til' sunsets gone. March and on, the Sun sets gone March is gone, The Sun sets on. March and go on. The sun sets gone. Son said Gone. Gone. Gone.