Lyrics:

Feeding the five thousand
Was not done with prayers alone
And it takes blood and guts
And it takes devotion
I'm so tired of standing up
And so tired of drawing breath
Now it's your turn to take the map
And it's your turn to drop the soap

We got pretty pretty boys sucking on a cola
Money to burn, money to burn, money to burn
We got rules to protect you
Isaac and Ishmael
The magazine says it's okay
Life as a billboard
And if you are the answer
We are going straight to hell

Grown in a parental fugue
Weight loss in self respect
Bomb, bomb, bomb us back together
A new way into a lost answer

You could talk a little less
And you could talk a little less

Feeding the five thousand
Was not done with prayers alone
And it takes blood and guts
And it takes devotion
I'm so tired of standing up
And so tired of drawing breath
Now it's your turn to take the map
And it's your turn to drop the soap

Grown in a parental fugue
Weight loss in self respect
Bomb, bomb, bomb us back together
A new way into a lost answer