Christ he ain’t the weak hippie freak you’re told about
He ain’t no smoking weed I said he ain’t no meek and mild
These nails not holding him so you’d better just stay behind
These flashy eyes you see just appear from a new facade
Hail the man who cleans this old manure
You know it seems like noone else but he only has the cure
It’s time I told you now our religion is nothing more
Than the true fossil of an age when impatience was born and raised