There's a house on a hill
On a street named after trees that were felled
In a town named after people's that were felled too
Where a child of 16 raises his fists to the clouds and the moon and anything listening
Yeah, he's putting on a show of force
But no ones fighting
While a neighbor at her window
Decries that the voice is someone else's son
Or daughter
And that she'll never father her own
So she bemoans
Little brother, I understand
Rage makes you feel
More like a man
Than the sorrow it's covering
So you can run against the grain till it rubs you raw
It'll pay off or it won't
You can cut your teeth to the gums till you're swimming in
The fire of your own blood
But your right to throw your fist ends
Where some other fool begins
So it's better to leech it out
Than let it win