Enough searching to know
that we've lost ourselves
in our slot machines, shotguns, and stripmalls
baby your technology
so slick and functional
and me without my nuclear arsenal
And if I could kill without guilt or sin
there'd soon be a few less record executives
and if I could kill and recieve forgiveness
there'd sure as hell be one less president

there's got to be a pill for forgiveness
there's got to be a trigger for happiness
Automatic sensory remote control
weather sattelites manipulate your soul
efficiently without a modicum of grace
I want to go out with a smile on my face

Losowe piosenki:
Stalemate
Lonely American Nights
December Sadness
Mouth Write A Check
Here Come Cowboys