Vestito come un incubo
Vuole tu sia in pericolo
Però ti chiama idolo
Vestito come un incubo
Vuole tu sia in pericolo
Però ti chiama idolo
I rely on the little things to get me by.
Conscience says, "I'm okay."
You don't hear what they say.
"He's not my son, search his home"
Off to war, it's time to go hide inside.
I rely on the little things to get me by.
Conscience says, "I'm okay."
You don't hear what they say.
"He's not my son, search his home"
Off to war, it's time to go hide inside.