You've lived on beans and rice
And fell for Jesus Christ
And if your pants are nice
Mother nature's son,
Never made sense until you begun
To play the kids for fun
Maybe start a TV show
A service in day-glo
Watch your ethics grow
Mother nature's kid,
Just keep the money hid
As if you never did sell
Mother nature's son
Never made sense until you begun
To play the kids for fun
You've never tasted hell
'cause Judas signed you well
And if the story sells
Mother nature's kid,
Just keep the money hid
As if you never did sell
Mother nature's son
Never made sense until you begun
To play the kids for funThis one is for you
and it goes on and on and on
when nothing seems to do
for when the doubtless and the wrong
ask; 'can I help you?'
in that way that says, 'I can't'
or claim we're all the same
just inconsistant
or pretend all understanding
turned out to be pretense
then pretend the pretense of understanding
How long does it take depends
You can cast your doubts
Turn em inside-out
Hang em upside-down
Til their art falls out-the short answer's; forty-eight hours
Let your heart all out-the short answer's; forty-eight hours
Til your art falls out-the short answer's; forty-eight hours
Let your heart all out
Summon up your power
If you need a good connection for drugs
or a strong tolerance for alcohol
Too little religious education
Some pain threshold
If from the outside
There's no deman for what you do
And inside there's an army waiting
For their marching orders for you
Come sit on my swing-set
Come sit on my porch
After Ten at night, smoke your cigarettes
if you like, ofcourse
You can cast your doubts
Turn em inside-out
Hang em upside-down
Til their art falls out- the short answer's; forty-eight hours
let your heart all out- the short answer's; forty-eight hours
Til their art falls out- the short answer's; forty-eight hours
Let your heart all out
Summon up all your power
And it does on and on and on
If we ever get home
let's don't compare
let's relinquish all our holidays
and Drive-In Premieres
if we ever get home
gonna have me three children
Apple, Zippo, and Metronome
that's what I'm gonna name them
and get celebrity skin
the illusion of tough
I'm gonna talk about nothing
til nothing's enough
if we ever get home
and the subject comes up
this War isn't for children
War is nothing's enough
O' in the clouds of