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(music & lyrics by T.J. Frawls)
Have you heard they got their own private Jonestown?
Where they hang the TVs from the trees
They rub the Buddha's belly, ‘cause that's where he keeps the Beast
But they'll kill him if they see him, walking down the street
Say hello to the new authorities
The paramilitary immorality police
It's hard to see the cross-hairs when they're right between your eyes
The other idol's angels are the devils in disguise
{Chorus #1}
The kids of Cain have gone completely insane
Pray for rain, you get a hurricane
With your savior's sense of humor, please don't do me any favors
It's a sickness unto death
Who put the poison in our daily bread?
There's no sense in saving all these living dead
Lock us in our cages and then throw away the keys
Justice is served best when you're standing on your knees
{Chorus #2}
So pick a gaffe out for your epitaph
And have a laugh down at the Golden Calf
‘Cause the prophets are big business, but they don't pay any wages
It's a sickness unto death
Profess a jest before they make you confess
A lethal dose of truth is all you'll have to repress
It's best to trip the trap before they switch the bait
Justice is served best when they serve it on a plate
{Chorus #1}
They talk about the torture down at C.I.A.
Here it's torture hearing radio, any given day
Tortured artists, tortured markets
Talk-show press whores torturing logic
They call it “terror”, tit for tat
Who put the rabbit in the hat?
Please sit down and just be quiet
Light a fire, LIFE'S A RIOT!
{Chorus #1 & #2 + Out} ^