papa don't preach my teeth are bleeding nutmeg

a company of violence in your parting shot

they were all waving backwards

and now i'm looking inward

and just as the popcorn pops

the last colonel got hit promotion

there's blood on his hands

and i know you're an honest man

but come clean

in a sea of disdain

and an equilibrium that does nothing but throw you off

money hand over fist

hands over your mouth first

i know you're calling the shots

but words are cheaper than bullets