See I’ve got my own money and I’ve got my own car
And I drive really fast but I don’t get too far
The tire marks under my eyelids are making it hard to open up
My pompous subscriptions don’t have provisions like cross bearing children on African missions
But I like to think in my final remission I’ll finally get some sleep

The sickening heat that I feel in my chest when I call my drug dealer in my Sunday bests
Will prepare me for your fiery hell, I’m sure
Gasping for air in your church corridors
Grayscale walls and cubicles
Haircut appointments and all 18 holes
Your pastimes are more identifiable
Than the hells you promise me in your dog eared bible

Line up your minds, it’s time to get saved
Eyes forward, watch the others
And pay at the gate

The power that compels me, yeah what really overwhelms me
Is the goodness and kindness In the people right beside us
Unspoken doctrine that the way we make our beds doesn’t define us or trump what’s in our heads
Thwarted by acceptance of stale, weighty words
Podium smoke rings flying like birds
If your conscience is reset on Sundays at noon
I don’t mean to s*** on all the good things you do
If your bullet points help you have babies that grow up to be happy and not full of emotional throw up
I wish someone baptized that good sense on me
Instead I have a voice and questionable morality

I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t know
I don’t know, I don’t know, I won’t know

Line up your minds, it’s time to get saved
Eyes forward, march onward
Proof trumped by faith
Line up your minds, it’s time to get saved
Eyes forward, watch the others
And pay at the gate