BAD RELIGION LYRICS

"Prodigal Son"
Oh, can't you feel the nostalgia?
I wonder about you, Modernistocrat Horatio Alger.
Clever, never hesitating in the baiting,
Ever waiting for the canticle of manacles abating.

Did you ever forget you had a regret?
And what you only guessed at
Might still be waiting?

When the prodigal son, with a caroming shadow of hate,
Comes to land at home,
Well he's a mourning star with a champagne heart
At his curtain call.

And father never understood the way
The work gets done.
Don't look at me, no, I ain't one,
No prodigal son.

Don't look at me, no, I ain't one,
No prodigal son.

When everybody about is ready to bout you
About controversial values,
Don't you think you'd better readdress the level
Of the cowardice rising to drown you?

Did you ever connect or come to reject
Or even inspect
The dreams that hound you?

When the prodigal son, with a caroming shadow of hate,
Comes to land at home,
Well he's a mourning star with a champagne heart
At his curtain call.

And father never understood the way
The work gets done.
Don't look at me, no, I ain't one,
No prodigal son.

Don't look at me, no, I ain't one,
No prodigal son.

When you least expect it,
He's going to run
Like the blood red path
Of the western sun, oh yeah.

The prodigal son is waiting,
Waiting for his moment to come.

Well hell no, don't look at me,
Can't you see, I ain't one,
No prodigal son.

Don't look at me, no, I ain't one,
No prodigal son.



"The Grand Delusion"
If I could only get the tools, the stimuli and the molecules,
Frozen moments in time,
I could be the archetype, a credit to the genotype,
Reprogram your mind.

But the storybook sages
Fill their pages,
Hiding from the warming sun.

Limitless distractions
Give no pause
To distort a precious delusion.

Delusion.
Precious delusion.

Yeah, did you see the moralist retort and raise his fist?
"You can't make man a machine!"
I can see the edifice crumbling in foggy mist,
Razed by discovery.

But the storybook sages
Fill their pages,
Hiding from the warming sun.

Limitless distractions
Give no pause
To distort a precious delusion.

Delusion.
Precious delusion.

Delusion.




"Scrutiny"
One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight,
Days go marching by.
There and back I never wait
For a confident reply.

Yeah, truth is stark and leaves its mark
As limited constraints.
And the most difficult part is accepting what the future may bring.

It seems like a lifetime of scrutiny.
Wither the path, whether worth the fee.
A lifetime of scrutiny.

And it seems as though I can't be sure of anything
Anymore.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight,
Years go flying by.
No one seems to hesitate
Or cast an earnest eye.

Yeah, judgment comes in many forms
But never scarce or shy
And the litany is long as the confidence is strong in their delight.

It seems like a lifetime of scrutiny.
Prejudicial waters wash over me.
A lifetime of scrutiny.

And the words just don't equate with sense or sanity
Anymore.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight,
The faces and the names.
Shattered hopes and stolen dreams
And no one left to blame.

Yeah, is it possible to win
This pointless mortal game?
'Cause when death comes it's swift and, my friend, we end up all the same.

Oh, it feels like a lifetime of scrutiny.
Wither the path, whether worth the fee.
A lifetime of scrutiny.

And it seems as though I can't remember anything
Anymore.



"Murder"
If you're discontent to know you world's a pile of shit,
Listen to a riddle that'll tickle every bit of it.
(Ha ha ha.)

Ape shall not murder,
Ape wasn't so sure.
Bad ape, you made a mistake,
Annihilation in a cannibal war.

Well cultivation might have served you,
Might have raised you up unscathed,
If you had called that fucker by its name.

Did you listen to the arbiter's beck and call?
Did you find what you were looking for or not at all?
Not at all.

Ape shall not murder,
Ape take the cure.
Bad ape, you made a mistake,
Annihilation in a cannibal war.

Culture might have cured you
And raised you up unscathed
If you had called that fucker by its name.

Say the name.
Say the name.
Say the name.




"Grains Of Wrath"
Back in '83 a man came to me
And he told me, "Son,
Our way of life is done,"
But I was only young.

With an eye to the fields, speculators and yields,
Rotten to the core.
Monoculture whores
Entered the bidding wars from distant shores.

I don't wanna be
In the land known as
Destitute and free...

With the grains of wrath blazing a path
From sea to shining sea.

Oh, the sinuous trails of concrete and rails
And exhausted roars,
Population wars
Setting our future course.

Yeah, is profit and greed the only conceit
On a scale between
Mere prosperity
And inhumanity? It may well be but...

I don't wanna be
In the land known as
Destitute and free...

With the grains of wrath blazing a path
From sea to shining sea.

I don't wanna be
In the land known as
Destitute and free...

With the grains of wrath blazing a path
From sea to shining sea.