above us lay the burdens
below us lay the truth
we're somewhere in the middle
and we're all discontent too
is someone watching over you?
inside, they know what's best for you
judgments not tomorrow
it's today (yes, now it's here)
but no it isn't jesus
take a look at all your peers
they're all looking down on you
inside they know what's best for you
it could happen to you,
a defect from the
wasted outskirts of Los Angeles
with a crumpled-up pass for the RTD
and no authority or trajectory
on the brink of insanity
you'd better believe it
because it's written all over your face
just a neighborhood reject,
out of step and out of place
you'd better believe it
would you ever have thought
persistence could prevail
against the almost
unbearable weight of the system?
with nothing better to do,
and no one else who you can look up to
you'd better believe it
because it's written all over your face
a political defect,
out of step and out of place
you'd better believe it
and the future is bright
when ideas run astray
so turn out the light,
a punk can't have a say
sometimes desire is all that's there
who said life was fair?
Porcelain and alabaster, decaying’ ever faster,
unaware of imminent disaster open up
your eyes.
As you ruminate the hopeless sands of time.
Did you wander out your days lost and resigned?
Or recreate the universals in your mind?
Everybody is a bastard; my world is like plaster.
Crumbling apart from pressure of the blaster
Waiting for a sign.
And the momentary pleasures take their turn,
As a wistful boy runs out of things to learn.
The episodes of yore are never to return.
Scare up some hope,
You’re gonna need it just to cope
You are the decision, numbers don’t lie.
When you bite the dust,
Was it for purpose all for trust?
You’ll never relive it,
Think before you die.
Yeah, think! Think before you die!
Deficit and depravation - in the wake of desperation.
Rewrite the morals, rectify the nation.
Now may be your time.
As you ruminate the hopeless sands of time,
Do you wonder how your life has been defined?
You know eternity can’t ever change your mind.
You know eternity can’t ever change your mind.
So, think! Think before you die - Whoa, think, think before you die!
see my body, it's nothing to get hung about.
I'm nobody except genetic runaround.
spiritual era's gone, it ain't comin' back.
bad religion, a cabal, that is all that's left.
hey Mr. Mind, stop wasting my time,
with your factory precision.
factory precision is your
bad religion, too good to take.
indecision, it's not too late.
bad religion, bad religion.
ay!
don't you know the place you live's a piece of shit?
don't you know blind faith in life will conquer it?
don't you know responsibility is ours?
I don't care a think about eternal fires.
listen this time, it's more than a rhyme,
it's your indecision.
your indecision is your
bad religion, too good to take.
indecision, it's not too late.
bad religion, too good to take.
indecision, it's not too late.
bad religion, bad religion,
bad religion.
he's the latest super hero with powers so profound
he can leap a dotted line in just a single bound
I know you must have seen him in books and magazines
he's the quintessential, mindless, modern epicene
his life is meaningful because he get things done
(bang bang) he's dead
chalk up another triumph for our hero
the automatic man
it's true you must have met him
he's your best friend and your foe
his opinions are determined by the status quo
a true creature of habit
he smokes three packs a day
when he has an original thought
he forgets it right away
he's a paradigm of carefree living
he's our mentor disturb him if you can
he's the answer if your peace of mind is lacking
he's our savior
he is the common man
so if you are troubled by the daily bump and grind
then take a careful look around
and brother you will find...
the automatic man
everybody wants do dance in a playpen,
but nobody wants to play in my garden.
I see the hippies on an angry line,
guess they don't get my meaning,
I'm enchanted by the birds in my blossoms,
I'm enamored by young lovers on the weekend,
I like the Forth of July,
when bombs start flashing,
and I wish I had a shiny red top,
a bugle with a big brass bell would cheer me up,
or maybe something bigger that could really go pop!
so I could make the gardening stop
come out to play, come out to play,
and we'll pretend it's Christmas Day
in my atomic
all my scientists are working on a deadline,
so my psychologist is working day and nighttime,
they say they know what's best for me,
but they don't know what they're doing,
and I'm glad I'm not Gorbachev,
'cause I'd wiggle all night,
like jelly in a pot,
at least he's got a garden with a fertile plot,
and a party that will never stop,
Come out to play
Come out to play
And we'll pretend its Christmas day
in my atomic
I hope there's nothing wrong out there,
I'm watching from my room inside my room
Come out to play
Come out to play
And we'll pretend its Christmas day
In my atomic
Maybe it’s too late for intellectual debate,
but a residue of confusion remains.
Changing with the times,
and developmentally tortured minds
are the average citizen’s sources of pain.
Tell me what we’re fighting for—
I don’t remember anymore,
only temporary reprieve
And the world might cease
if we fail to tame the beast
from the faith that you release
comes an atheist peace.
Atheist peace.
Political forces render
bitter cold winds of discontent,
and the modern age emerged triumphantly.
But now it seemed we've stalled,
And it’s time to de-evolve
and relive the dark chapters of history
Tell me what we’re fighting for—
No progress ever came from war,
only a false sense of increase
and the world won’t wait
for the truth upon a plate
but we’re ready now to feast on an atheist peace.
What you do is what you are
And wishing upon distant stars
Won't improve the hole you're in
Won't absolve your deepest sin
But action is no gift from some covert and lofty god
It's dependant and weighty all the same
And it is oh so easy just to keep to yourself
But then you're at the mercy of imbeciles
Now I didn't make up the rules
But clearly we are led by fools
It is wise to know their ways
So you know how not to behave
But sometimes we find ourselves in desperate need
And we look to those with privilege and power
It's then we learn compassion sits inert on their shelves
(Greg Graffin)
It's a love song to the self, a story recapped every day,
It's a world of bogus feelings and a world of slow decay,
It's a world of laughter hidden by this world of fear and torment,
It's a game of strange compulsion, our visceral convulsion:
Anxiety for love of life, anxiety for pain,
Anxiety, a feeling that you know you can't contain.
Anxiety destroys us but it drives the common man.
Foundation of society, anxiety. Suppress it if you can.
The caste of coffee achievers didn't perform like they planned.
The morning rush hour traffic is our play of false elan.
So run around your frantic track and lay you down to sleep;
Tomorrow's the redemption, we strive for that exception.
Anxiety for love of life, anxiety for pain,
Anxiety, a fear that you have nothing more to gain.
Anxiety destroys us but it drives the common man.
Foundation of society, anxiety. Suppress it if you can.
What are we angry for?
We all need a common cure.
That common goal for which you strive:
To have more than the other (have more than the other) guy.
everybody is talking about the girl
who went and killed the delivery man,
but she looks so kind and gentle,
it just doesn't stand to reason,
I saw her right there just the other night
as stately as a slot machine,
but when she looked my way something mad
as hell came over me,
anesthesia, mona lisa, I've got a little gun,
here comes oblivion,
I never loved you, how did you find me?
the cops will never prove complicity now, anna......
all good children go to heaven!
I remember your face that august night
when we lied about the beautiful time to come
and that crazy old man who came much to late
and caused a chain reaction,
I've been hanging out there for eleven long years
like a church mouse wondering where the cat has gone,
and looking at you now
is driving me to distraction
anesthesia, mona lisa, I've got a little gun,
here comes oblivion,
I never loved you, how did you find me?
the cops will never prove complicity now, anna......
all good children go to heaven!
