Speak to me, preacher, a damn shame to meet you
The whole world's gone mad, what the hell did they teach you?
We've drunk all the rivers and sinned like the plagues
Still creeping ever closer to our end of days
And I still recall the day I lost my faith
When I hung up that cross on the mirror's frame
I think I'll kill another man, and burn all the bridges that I can
And I hope I never see that fucking thing again
We tore down Verona to write it again
Poisoned the horses and all the king's men
It's box office bullshit, it's Hollywood, friend
And we'll never be in fucking showbiz again
They said Jack was nimble, and Jack was quick
He snuffed the wick out, he's a giant prick
So tell me more about 'mysterious ways'
And mass graves and war crimes on hot summer days
We tore down Verona to write it again
Poisoned the horses and all the king's men
It's box office bullshit, it's Hollywood, friend
And we'll never be in fucking showbiz again
If there's good in this down, man, I ain't seen it yet
The two-dollar beers are as good as it gets
So sin with me, preacher, over cigarettes
And maybe we'll talk of this 'church' thing again
Let's make a mockery of how youth die
Let's write a smash hit the kids can buy
Frame a suicide note, hang it on your wall
Then proceed to live to age 94
You've got your golden ticket, but you can't play nice
You've got your pigeon holes right on the dotted line
Man, I can fake it too, just show me where to sign
You better stick to binary, that's the life
Got to slice the cancer with minimum fuss
Before the scalpel decides to rust
While Salem's cisterns turn to dust
And we'll burn the rest of it if we must
Do you remember the last days of Rome?
Did it feel a little bit like a broken home?
We're going to drag the church through the dirt
Hope it doesn't hurt, and make history alone
Yeah, we'll make history on our own
So I drove a thousand miles down a yellow-brick road
Trying to find a good price for my spine and my soul
And Alice always told me that, "That's the price of fame,'
Better wash the red pill down the rabbit hole again
We tore down Verona to write it again
Poisoned the horses and all the king's men
It's box office bullshit, it's Hollywood, friend
And we'll never be in fucking showbiz again
If there's good in this town, man, I ain't seen it yet
The two-dollar beers are as good as it gets
So sin with me, preacher, over cigarettes
And maybe we'll talk of this 'church' thing again
Maybe we'll talk of this 'church' thing again
Maybe we'll talk of this 'church' thing again