Fighter

 

FIGHTER

It easy saying quite, telling me that winning is hard

But you will never make me sit, I’m on rampage, I’m mad

Making a classic difference, even if it’s on my dying bed

I’m tired of sitting on this fence, I’m gonna stand or at least bend

Making a move is easy; it’s keeping the pace that’s a bit harsh

I’m only gonna quite being lazy, hold onto your whip and give me your best lash

If I die now on this field, I’ll do it gladly with great pride

With my middle finger well build, and my tongue stoke out dried

It will be the last thing you see, my smiling face shinning bright

But obviously death can’t see me, and am surely skipping that bright light

I’ve got only one thing on my mind, it’s winning at all good cost

Victory is not that had to find, after all, I buried it in my purse

I’ll dig deep and I’ll dig fast

My medals I must keep, I’m only letting go of my past

Raise your head and turn up your lighters

Cause here comes the fighter.