Albert Camus

(альбом: The Airing Of Grievances - 2008)

Running around this run-down, one-horse town
One of these days they're gonna crucify me
How weary, stale, flat and unprofitable
It is to be young, dumb, and have lots of money

We will sit upon this grassy knoll
Holding hands and stroking handguns with pristine souls
And even my own mother will tell you I'm an asshole
But underneath it all there is an apathetic heart of gold

So who will be saved
From the least to the greatest men
When even Honest Abe
Sold poison milk to schoolchildren

The blood drive came to Glen Rock High
In a white bus with red letters on the side
And a long shiny needle they brought to suck me dry
Like missionary mosquitoes in the sky

So now you're doing time for stealing candy from a babe
Because all the kids in Ridgewood have got cell phones these days
And if you wear a mask, they can still read your license plate
And a wireless line is a terrible thing to waste

Because the more we think
The less it all makes sense
Tonight we will drink
To our general indifference

Lamb of God
We think nothing of ourselves at all
So, Death, be not proud
We don't give a fuck about nothing
And we only want what we are not allowed