Sink your teeth into the madness of the world,
survival presumes we have something to live for when we\'re all living to die.
Cry yourself a river to feed the thirsty,
all for those in a mental drought with no reception to call home.
Call them crazy, but it\'s something in the air that drives them towards the mudded pool of spilt blood.
Starved for belief in something bigger than this jungle,
we\'ve all got jungle madness and need something worth fighting for.
Swing off your vines, back and forth
back and forth,
back to love and forth onto leaving.
Madness has driven us before,
but nobody tells you how to stop fighting when you get back home.
Madness drove shotgun,
the shells still sit behind the heels of the bloody feet that once ran through fields of flowers.
Nobody told you of the flowers filled with thorns
Thorns that leave you scarred,
faithless and tear you to the pit of despair.
You fight because its in your blood,
you spill your own to drown out the voice telling you you\'re made for something bigger.
That jungle madness always calling out for something more.
fight for me when you\'re singing victory through the mud.
Proud of the strength you grew through the madness.
I grieve the tears shed before you sacrificed everything.
Ill be waiting to pick the thorns that tore you up,
I\'ll be here to cure you of your jungle madness.