Bad Religion

All There Is

Bad Religion

The Empire Strikes First


This song goes out
to all the hopeless sinners,
with grave allegiances,
so meaningless and vain,

though walking wounded in a pageant of contenders,
who balance on a rail of pain for just a pale refrain.

And everything is barely missed, blood relations and bricks
my expression, my confession, add it up, extract a lesson, more than this,
once again, like a bullet as a friend, tell me: can that be all there is?

In my rectory of doubt, I kneel to pray like one devout,
as time the great great dreamless sleep of a useless modern god
erodes away each sorry day as wretched adams, one hell to pay--
contained upon a rail of pain for just a little rain.

And everything is dearly missed, blood relations and bricks
my expression, my confession, add it up, extract a lesson, more than this,
once again, like a bullet as a friend, tell me: can that be all there is?

There's an endless disposition,
and it doesn't mean a goddamn thing—
there's space for a paper-airplane race in the eye of a hurricane.

And if pigs could fly, then surely so could I,
but this pedestrian knows better than to even try,
and my divinity is caught between the colors of a butterfly.

And everything is dearly missed, blood relations and bricks
my expression, my confession, add it up, extract duress and more than this,
once again, like a bullet as a friend, tell me: can that be all there is?
All there is?

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