Lyrics:

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