Born     into a world of       convictions.
He drives to work          wearin' a Je-sus beard.
(Chants)  OM (ooooohhhhhmmmmmmmm)
clutchin' onto     his coffee.
Holdin'   deeply   on  to rit-u-ual.
 ooh he'll hold on. on. on.   
( onandonand on ooooh) 
Boxed in by   thoughts      on-ly of himself.
His mind    a mirror
producing only images
-representations of the real.
He drives       searching for meaning.
While the rest
hold out their hands
and sing
their convictions.
 how long he will run. run. run. ruh uhuhuh oooooooh
Despite       all this conditionin'
his words    are all lost in his head
He works     for someone else's profitin'
 HO-ooold on. on. on.
into a world of convictions
Images explode
like halos       in the sun.
There is no justice in any cause
since everyone has already been bought

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