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Back when I was young, I heard a song. |
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It told me to have fun, but I couldn't do that. |
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I never could do that easy- I always freeze. |
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So I corner-crept, I bathroom-wept, lonely. Oh, poor me... |
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Now, when I drive through the radio hive, we turn each other off. |
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The message has changed from just bad to insane, but I keep my fingers crossed. |
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We'll be as good as gold. |
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We will get up follow because all you know is wrong; it's the radio I want. |
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It's all I know. It's gone. |
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We in the muck; so long! |
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And all you know is wrong; it's the radio I want. It's all I know. |
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I want to write the anti-hymn, something grim. |
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Yeah, such a disgustingly evil song, it makes the devil sing along. |
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Everyone says I've got to be good, something better. |
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Everyone says my head is stuck in the mud, but I don't care. |
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Slip me something; bring back the burning! |
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All you know is wrong, leave the road! |
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We pull off... we hammer on... |
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Hammer on! |
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We go to bed with nails and sweat right to rust. |
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Hammer on! |
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We know magic, we turn prophets back to dust. |
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Hammer on! |
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You best believe with only a hammer; we see nails all the time. |
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Hammer on! |
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You best believe with only a hammer we need to be crucified. |
