Dear god do you want to tear your knuckles down
And hold yourself

Dear god can you climb off that tree
Meat into the shape of a ’T’

Dear god the paper says you were the King
In the black limousine

Dear John and all the King’s men
Can’t put you head together again

Before the bullets
Before the flies
Before authorities take out my eyes
The only smiling are you dolls that I made
But you are plastic and so are your brains

Dear god the sky is as blue
As a gunshot wound

Dear god if you were alive
You know we’d kill you

Before the bullets
Before the flies
Before authorities take out my eyes
The only smiling are you dolls that I made
But you are plastic and so are your brains

Am I sorry your sky went black
put your knives in babies backs?
Am I sorry you killed the Kennedy’s and Huxley too?

But I’m sorry Shakespeare
was your scapegoat
and your apples sticking into my throat
Sorry your Sunday smiles are rusty nails
and your crucifixion commercials failed
but I’m just a pitiful anonymous

And I see all the young believers
Your target audience
I see all the old deceivers
we all just sing their song

Am I sorry to be alive
putting my face in the beehive?
Am I sorry for Booth and Oswald pinks and cocaine too?

I’m sorry you never check
the bag in my head for a bomb
and my halo was a needle hole
I’m sorry I saw a priest being beaten
and I made a wish
but I’m just a pitiful anonymous

And I see all the young believers
Your target audience
I see all the old deceivers
we all just sing their song
we all just sing their song

"the valley of death we are free
your father’s your prison you see"

And I see all the young believers
Your target audience
I see all the old deceivers
we all just sing their song

you’re just a copy of an imitation

this is for the people they want you
this is for the people they want you
getting high on violence baby

President Dead is clueless
and he’s caught in a headlight police-stated god
and his skull is stained glass

incubated and jet set
the bitter thinkers buy their tickets
to go find god like a piggy in a fair

and we don’t want to live forever
and we know that suffering is so much better

this is for the people they want you
this is for the people they want you
getting high on violence baby

give the bills time to work
we all could be martyred in the
winter of our discontent

(getting high on violence baby)

every night we are nailed into place and
every night we just can’t seem to
ever remember the reason why

(getting high on violence baby)

and we don’t want to live forever
and we know that suffering is so much better

this is for the people they want you
this is for the people they want you
getting high on violence baby

and we don’t want to live forever
and we know that suffering is so much bett

We have no future
heaven wasn’t made for me
we burn ourselves to hell
as fast as it can be
and I wish that I could be a king
then I’d know that I am not alone

Maggots put on shirts
Sell each others shit
sometimes I feel so worthless
sometimes I feel discarded
I wish that I was good enough
then I’d know that I am not alone

Death is policeman
Death is the priest
Death is the stereo
Death is a TV
Death is the Tarot
Death is an angel and
Death is our God
killing us all

she puts the seeds in me
plant this dying tree
she’s a burning string
and I’m just the ashes

she put the seeds in me
plant this dying tree
she’s a burning string
and I’m just the ashes

this is evolution
the monkey
the man
and then the gun
if Christ was in Texas
the hammer
the sickle
the only son
this is your creation
the atom of Eden
was a bomb
if Jack was the Baptist
we’d drink wine
from the head

this is evolution
the monkey
the man
and then the gun

I am a revolution
pull my knuckles down
if I could
I am a revelation
and I’m nailed
to the Holy Wood

this is evolution
the monkey
the man
and then the gun

we are dead and tomorrow’s canceled
because of things we did yesterday
we are dead and tomorrow’s canceled
they crucify us in our space
in our space
in our space

this is evolution
the monkey
the man
and then the gun
flies are waiting

We are damned and we are dead
all god’s children to be sent
to our perfect place in the sun
and in the dirt

There’s a windshield in my heart
we are bugs so smeared and scarred
and could you stop the meat from thinking
before I swallow all of it
could you please?

Put me in the motorcade
put me in the death parade
dress me up and take me
dress me up and make me
your dying god

angels with needles
poked through our eyes
let the ugly light
of the world in
we were no longer blind
we were no longer blind

Put me in the motorcade
put me in the death parade
dress me up and take me
dress me up and make me
your dying god

Now we hold the "ugly head"
the Mary-whore is at the bed
They’ve cast the shadow of our perfect death
in the sun and in the dirt.