Red Envelopes Songtext
von Walking Papers

There′s a monster incubating inside a teenage mom
There's a world outside that′s waiting for him with the atom bomb
There's a body on the billboard that he's never gonna get
If it was lying in his bed he would know what to do with it
There′s a stack of red envelopes
There′s a list of demands
The blood is on your hands
The blood is on your hands
The blood is on your hands
He'll use his skateboard for a weapon
He′s gonna have a short fuse
He'll grow up with holes in his jeans and dirty white tennis shoes
He′s gonna love the smell of spray paint
He'll be growing out his hair
He′s gonna give the world the finger to show them he don't care
No one ever listens And no one understands
The blood is on your hands
The blood is on your hands
The blood is on your hands
There's bars on the windows
There′s a mattress on the floor
There′s an endless arguments on the other side of the door
He's gonna put on his headphones
To drown out the noise
′Cause rock'n′roll's the only escape for forgotten teenage boys
There′s a stack of red envelopes
There's a list of demands
The blood is on your hands
The blood is on your hands
The blood is on your hands