Years spent on
Droning hymns
At Sunday school

(Our Father, son and holy ghost)
Prostrate on
Orders culled

From ancient rule
(DonÂ't tell them where old hands may go)


Just sit down
And shut up and donÂ't think
Â'til we turn you on

Just sit down
And shut up and donÂ't speak
Cause thereÂ's nothing wrong


Honor codes
Carved in stone

With blood and bone
(Lost on their Fields of friendly strife)
ItÂ's not enough

To say you
Just donÂ't know
(How dare you come through it alive)


Now raise a
Picket fence

And settle down
(ItÂ's time you found yourself a life)
YouÂ're much too

Old to sit and
Play the clown
(You have no right to feel alive)