Some people like to make all the rules
And tell others what to do
They make it their way so they always win
And the others always lose
Street gangs and madmen
How they wage their private wars
In bankers clothes their hearts are froze and
Their wives hold hands with whores


I'll sit and spin for a little while
If it's the end of days
I'm goin out in style


Too much, Too young, Too fast
I'm gonna drink it up while it lasts
Too much, Too young, Too fast
I'm gonna tear it up so fill my glass




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