American Tradition

[Verse 1]

He wants to lift weights like a fighter

We put the medals on the wall

In a room of starving vultures

Gold trophies, he got 'em all

He wants to be just like his father

We play the knife game on the table

I bleed to death, it doesn't matter

'Cause, my baby, he's still the winner

[Chorus]

He holds me in his arms, it's no good

Things don't go like they should

He holds me in his arms, it's no good

Things don't go like they should

[Verse 2]

Sleep on the carpet through the night

We're living off a TV dinner

Hanging me up by his gold chain

He used to be a hockey player

I used to be a figure skater

Cutting my leg with the blade

In the blue and red arena

Trying to pretend we're the same

[Chorus]

He holds me in his arms, it's no good

Things don't go like they should

He holds me in his arms, it's no good

Things don't go like they should