Bands with managers are going places.
Bands with messy hair and smooth white faces.
But you don't believe when I say that it won't be alright.
(Alright)
Vans with 15 passengers are rolling over.
But I trust T. William Walsh and I'm not afraid to die.
But you don't believe when I say that it won't be alright.
(Alright)
That it won't be alright.
(Alright)
Cause it won't be alright.
(Alright)
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