It's a witch hunt almost, this thing we do to each other,
prying through forests and rubbing pavement white until we find the evil
while over-looking the parallels and heart.
But we can all move the same way, see, follow me,
sway, swooooosh, left hip, right
And at least in this room right now we can all speak the same language,
repeat after me,
I am the anger's child, (I am the anger's child)
I am the anger's child, (I am the anger's child)
And when we hit our knee, or stub our toes, the same blood rushes to hush it
and the same tears fight past the pride,
and and and when your mother left you screamed a scream I screamed after she screamed
it two hours before her brother screamed it, first,
and don't you see what I'm saying here?