Lyrics

Oh this hymn Sings no praise of the lost days When youth's brains were sun-bathed On sundays And thesepews Going to give our backsides slivers When this reckless perspective Is delivered These are the faults of man When the ethics and morals Slip through the holes in his hands Focus is fucked On doctored doctrine We're telling our own brethren They ain't no they ain't Gettin' into heaven We've got hour heads Looking up towards the sky We're worried about the after=life When we should live our lives Before we die These are the faults of man When the ethics and morals Slip through the holes in his hands Again and again