Lyrics
Lyrics:
it's just like church: zero hour's conductive to inspiration. so why not be a part of a heaven ascending nation? yeah. drink your Jesus-juice while you're shaking your Jesus-dreds. knowing in your Jesus-head you'll wake up from your Jesus-death. never question what authorities speak on, they got a pulpit or a podium, no way they could be wrong. you know that shit. at least you hope it's legit. 'cause you focus on your leaders, they controlling your skit. don't worry, they'll make it funny, they're trained in comedic farce; God'll laugh at how you squirm in the system of bleeding hearts. fossil fuel for the heartless, need the juices to spark this, twenty car garage remote control for keeping their parking. their seeking the stardust to roll up the sun for a trophy case. they might just roll your soul while they're at it to bulk the surface-area despair for you and yours, but who's annoying who? twenty-first century caste system, bow to royalty fool. bow and come back up, with the AK in your hands. not a car, the 47 so you're blasting the man. pop a cap in their plans, for progeny, proceed to slaughtering. so much heated metal, they'll be thinking you were sodering.
Regan was the Devil, and Cheney's the Anti-Christ
Stalin-style tactile propaganda when not acting right
quell the population with a refund of cash and dimes?
they lied about the moon, and they'll do it again.
they listen to your calls Nixon-style, and getaway with it.
second fucking cousins to Bin Ladens when the trade was hit.
knowing motherfuckers is crooked, but you're okay with it?
they lied about the moon, and they'll do it again.
YOU'RE THINKING TOO MUCH, AND IT'S MAKING YOU STUPID, ALL THESE FACTS AND DEDUCTIONS, AND THIS LOGIC AND CONCLUSION, PROVES NOTHING WHEN WE SAY "3+7 MAKES 2" YOU COULD GET ARRESTED FOR "SHOOTING A COP" TOO!
shoot. i wish those White Shadows would try that bullshit. i'm the Reverend Doomsday it's my duty to just pull it. but it's not a piece, i hold revelation in holsters. detonate the capitol buildings and watch 'em smolder. just look at our beautiful flag flap in the wind. it's like, "i claim this, India, for Spain," in this bitch. motherfuckers musta took a wrong turn in their flight. 'cause they landed in an Arizon chroma-keyed night. like Christ, walking on water and never getting his feet wet, detective not needed today to organize the evidence. 'cause when birds quack, flap and snack in lakes, it's a gorgeous swan dimension or an ugly duck face. faith of a mustard seed, and heartbreak of volcanos, erupt on motherfuckers 'til they recognize the payload. yeah, today's the day where explosions begin to culminate, arm yourselves with pineapples, pen the pin and behold the flames!
Regan was the Devil, and Cheney's the Anti-Christ
Stalin-style tactile propaganda when not acting right
quell the population with a refund of cash and dimes?
they lied about the moon, and they'll do it again.
they listen to your calls Nixon-style, and getaway with it.
second fucking cousins to Bin Ladens when the trade was hit.
knowing motherfuckers is crooked, but you're okay with it?
they lied about the moon, and they'll do it again.
i used to think Santa Claus was my motherfucking homie and his elves had cute names like, Sega and Sony. but them elves other job was riding Vega the Pony, and Santa's ass, rocks a flask, at like eight in the morning. feeling like Dick Tracy, wrong day for the costume party. all dressed up and nowhere to go, looking ridiculous. might as well be covered in earth, feel like a canned sardine, channeling that Kahless ruthless mode so i can spit the clips. by the way, nukes kill, be afraid but buy a valentine. tell the one you love the most, she's worth a grand and $.95, humanity's still ignorant, the future never came. still the planet of apes, and intelligence a game. guess the convoluted logic pattern, jolly misdeduction. probably interupt the ones that experted the functions. vomiting the
