don’t you swing like a child,nin a tree, on a tire, in 85?nthere’s an arc that your feet will ridenon the way between hate and that sunday firennyou look so seriousnoh, you look so seriousnthe night is serving usnbut you look so seriousnnand this could be our rewardnthis could be itnnthis simple friday nightnwhere you’re loosening your tienbut there's a tightness in your eyesnnyou look so seriousnwhy do you look so serious?nthe night is serving usnand we’re deserving itnnand this could be our rewardnthis could be itn(this could be all we're owed)n(all we're owed, all we're getting)nncause if we swing like a childnthen we’re always colliding this time of nightnbut our arcs, they could alignn(we could align! we could align!)nand over gravity up comes this kicking childnthis kicking child