Blood, Death & Taxes
So close so far away
Suspected so you say
They've got a place for me
I'm a displaced society
I'm not looking for compensation
I want some justice
Tell you what they want from me
Blood, death and taxes
Fed up, my hands are tied
Frustrated, down the line
Busted and out of time
How could I have been so blind
They won't fuckin' rest until I'm dead
Writer/s: Agnostic Front
