Songwriters: Commerford, Timothy; Cornell, Chris; Morello, Tom; Wilk, Brad;
He was standing at the rock
Gathering the fog
Getting there with no directions
And underneath the arch
Turned into a march
And there he found a spot to set this fucker on
Set if off, set it on my children
Set it right
Set it off, set it off my children
Alright
Set it off, set it on my children
Set it fire
Set it off, set it on my children
Suddenly a shot
Ripped into his heart
He needed some attention
And there he played his card
Going into shock
The last thing that he said was set this fucker on
Set if off, set it on my children
Set it right
Set it off, set it off my children
Alright
Set it off, set it on my children
Set it fire
Set it off, set it on my children
Alright, alright, alright
Alright, alright, alright
Jesus at the back door, everything is alright
All we need is some direction
Every time the wind blows, everything you don't know
Turns into a revelation
It all ends up inside your head
Time is wasted
Set if off, set it on my children
Set it right
Set it off, set it off my children
Alright
Set it off, set it on my children
Set it fire
Set it off, set it on my children
Alright, alright, alright
Alright, alright, alright
