Youth Matisyahu

Some of them come now
Some of them running
Some of them looking for fun
Some of them looking for a way out of confusion

Some of them don't know where to be
Some of them don't know where to go
Some of them trust their instincts
That something's missing from the show

Some don't fit society
Their insides are crying low
Some of them teachers squashed the flame
'Fore it had a chance to grow

Some of them embers still glow
Them charcoal hushed and low
Some of them come with a hunger suppressed
Not fed them feel the death blow, yo

Young man, control in your hand
Slam your fist on the table
And make your demand
Take a stand, fan the fire for the flame of the youth
Got the freedom to choose
You better make the right move