Woorden:
Bad Religion No Substance

England seemed like such a beautiful place from afar Until one day I saw how miserable things really are All fantastic images they only are apparent

Like a morning crow and his unwelcome song Or a worn out broken record that keeps skipping along Mountains of instructions you keep piling on me Resound

I am surely crazy Only an unrepentant pessimist Whose thoughts should be detained But facts are sterile, not vulgar nor sublime And they're not religion

Blood is a river, flowing darkly amidst the tangled roots Of the tall shining city, crazy flowing man tide migrations Engorge the big ventricle of heartbroken

Fa fa fafa fa fa fafa raise your voice Fa fa fafa fa fa fafa raise your voice Fa fa fafa fa fa fafa raise your voice Fa fa fafa fa fa fafa raise your

We all know politicians only go Just halfway there, just halfway there The innocence of youth needs protection not abuse But no one seems to care, yet

I see a white haired man, he's got a pseudonym He's telling people how they're supposed to live Nobody's listening to the politician No matter what sage

You want prosperity For yourself, but not for me Somehow you just can't see We're in this collectively You think that freedom is A drastic severance

Since the start of the 17th century There's been the scent of unseasoned wood Burning in the air And the conquest of nature meant nothing at all While