All your two-bit psychiatrists are giving you electro shockThey say, they let you live at home, with mom and dadInste
ad of mental hospitalBut everytime you tried to read a bookYou couldn't get to page 17'Cause you forgot, where you wereSo y
ou couldn't even readDon't you know, they're gonna kill your sonsDon't you know, they're gonna kill, kill your sonsThey're g
onna kill, kill your sonsUntil they run run run run run run run run awayMom informed me on the phoneShe didn't know what to
do about dadTook an axe and broke the tableAren't you glad you're marriedAnd sister, she got married on the islandAnd her h
usband takes the trainHe's big and he's fat and he doesn't even have a brainThey're gonna kill your sonsDon't you know, they
're gonna kill, kill your sonsDon't you know, they're gonna kill, kill your sonsUntil they run awayCreedmore treated me very
goodBut Paine Whitney was even betterAnd when I flipped on PHCI was so sad I didn't even get a letterAll of the drugs, tha
t we took, it really was lots of funBut when they shoot you up with thorizene on crystal smokeYou choke like a son of a gunD
on't you know, they're gonna kill your sonsDon't you know, they're gonna kill, kill your sonsThey're gonna kill, kill your so
nsUntil they run run run run run run run run away