Feeding the five thousand was not done with prayers alone   It takes blood and guts and it takes devotion   So tired of standing up and so tired of drawing breath   It's your turn to take the map and it's your turn to drop the soap      Pretty, pretty boys sucking on a cola   Money to burn, money to burn, money to burn   We got rules to protect us, Isaac and Ishmael   The magazine says it's okay, life as a billboard      If you are the answer   We are going straight hell      Grown in a parental fugue   Weight loss in self respect   Bomb, bomb, bomb us back together   A new way into a lost answer