Testi:
Bad Religion New Maps Of Hell

Here's a story of an honest man losing religion, Climbing the pulpit steps before an eager congregation, The while praying came a wicked inspiration,

kin And when it finally came to him You could've mistook it for the meaning of sin The women wish him well Every time he cast off marching to hell Now

Amid the heat and the wrack Hot boots invested and cracked Poor candidates jacked into gray light An ultra-violent call summoning both poet and thrall

Back in '83 a man came to men 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 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

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

Dedication is the price you pay: the initiated are Coddled and caged Before you walk, as soon as you crawl Hope is pointless 'cuz you're stuck in the

One - two - three - four - five - six - seven - eight! Days go marching by There and back I never wait for a confident reply Truth is stark and leaves

Lacerate, eviscerate and perforate and mutilate We all fall down, all fall down Deprecate, repudiate, ameliorate, adjudicate The wisdom found, wisdom