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Bad Religion
Bad Religion


Background information
Origin Woodland Hills, California
Genre(s) Punk Rock
Melodic Hardcore
Hardcore Punk
Years active 1979—present
Label(s) Epic Records
Atlantic Records
Epitaph Records
Associated acts Error
Circle Jerks
Black President
Infectious Grooves
Minor Threat
Government Issue
Dag Nasty
Daredevils
Bad4Good
Suicidal Tendencies
Website Website
Members
Greg Graffin
Brett Gurewitz
Jay Bentley
Greg Hetson
Brian Baker
Brooks Wackerman
Former members
Jay Ziskrout
Davy Goldman
Tim Gallegos
Pete Finestone
John Albert
Lucky Lehrer
Bobby Schayer
Paul Dedona



Music World  →  Lyrics  →  B  →  Bad Religion  →  Albums  →  Stranger Than Fiction

Bad Religion Album


Stranger Than Fiction (1994)
1994
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. . .


Mother,
Father,
Look at your little monster
I'm a hero
I'm a zero
I'm the butt of the worst joke in history
I'm a lock without a key
a city with no door
a prayer without faith
a show without a score
I'm a bad word
a wink, a nod, a shiver
an untold story, sex without fury
a creeping gray memory
I am
Incomplete, incomplete, incomplete
Incomplete
Doctor
Cure me
What is the cause of my condition?
This madness shoots me
Like bullets smashing glass in a silent movie
I'm a trap without a spring,
a temple with no god,
a jack without an ace,
the tip of your tounge
I'm a promise and an unmailed letter
an unbuilt motor, deck without a joker
a creeping gray memory
I am
Incomplete, incomplete, incomplete
Incomplete
Tell Saint Peter not to bet on me
I am a naked obsession
a good intention gone bad
I am
Incomplete, incomplete, incomplete
Incomplete
Incomplete, incomplete, incomplete...


. . .


there are desperate times upon us,
there are codes of white and black,
political resentment and people start to crack,
there's hate and opposition,
there's fumbling dialog,
yet you sit there and judge me
and you think it makes a difference
if you think i'm all alone you are foolishly wrong,
there's an entire army who blindly follow along,
and you happen to be one of them believe it or not,
even though you try not to be we are of the same plague
the other ways we're taught to fear,
don't even scratch the surface of the problem here,
i'm not blind, and i'm not scared,
so many crucial factors exist out there,
and we're but one, and they're bout two,
and how we come to terms will help us pull through
things cannot change too fast,
it took us this much time,
to reach our current platform and walk this fragile line,
if i thought i'd make a difference i'd kill myself today,
but so many are like me lost in the fray
you create your own reality,
and leave mine to me.


. . .


A febrile shocking violent smack
And the children are hoping for a heart attack
Tonight the windows are watching
The streets all conspire
And the lamppost can't stop crying
If I could fly high above the world
Would I see a bunch of living dots spell the word stupidity?
Or would I see hungry lover homicides
Loving brother suicides
And olly olly oxenfrees
Who pickaside and hide

The world is scratching at my door
My morning paper has the scores
The human interest stories, and the obituary

Cockroach naps and rattling traps
How many devils can you fit upon a match head?
Caringosity killed the Kerouac cat
Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction

In my alley around the corner
There's a wino with feathered shoulders
And a spirit giving head for crack and he'll never want it back
There's a little kid and his family eating crackers like thanksgiving
And a pack of wild desperados scornful of living

The worlds is scratching at my door
My morning paper has the scores
The human interest stories, and the obituary

Cradle for a cat, Wolfe looks back
How many angels can you fit upon a match?
I want to know why Hemingway cracked
Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction

Life is the crummiest book I ever read
There isn't a hook
Just a lot of cheap shots
Pictures to shock
And characters that amateurs would never think up

Sometimes truth is stranger than fiction

. . .


the brown and orange sky holds its breath
as the sun retreats to the distant horizon,
and our hearts palpitate anxiously as we soon will lay supine,
and wait for sleep to overcome us
and from somewhere in our black,
subconscious minds when we're asleep,
comes a haunting swelling mass of voices,
resonating, its screams of forgotten victims and the cries of innocence,
and the desperate plea for recognition and recompense
tiny voices, echoes of our heritage,
our long and sallow faces turn the other way,
tiny voices, harbored deep within
as we outwardly deny that they have something to say,
and if we don't confront them they will never go away
the billions of tiny pinhole embers fade into a morning sky
filled with poignant morose wonder,
waking a bear a cosmetic peace that verifies the turmoil
which we carry deep inside.


. . .


every time you shake someone's hand and it feels like your best friend,
could it be that it's only superficiality?,
without regard to well-being, without an inkling of compromise,
handshakes are nothing but a subtle "fuck you",
contracts determine the best friendships
this is the way of the modern world, everyone's vying for patronage,
this is the way of the modern world, and something has gotta give
every time you shake someone's hand,
and you share neither color or creed,
you gotta overcome the obstacles of history,
there is restrained passion, mistrust, and bigotry
and these have created the new foundations of society,
there's no harmony just class and race
this is the way of the modern world,
everyone's fighting for dominance,
this is the way of the modern world,
and something has gotta give
now i believe in unity, and i am willing to compromise,
but i'm not gonna lie or sell my soul
every time you shake someone's hand,
it determines where you stand,
and if you won't uphold your side then it's better to
fend for yourself, and shun the handshake,
someone's gotta give.


. . .


I'm sorry about the sun
How could I know that you would burn?
And I'm sorry about the moon
How could I know that you'd disapprove?

And I'll never make the same mistake
The next time I create the universe
I'll make sure we communicate at length
Oh yeah

But until then, better off dead
A smile on the lips and a hole in the head
Better off dead, yeah better than this
Take it away, 'cause there's nothing to miss

I'm sorry about the world
How could I know
You'd take it so bad?

And I'll never make the same mistake
So if you're looking for a fantasy
Why not try the entire human race?
Just to play it safe

But until then, better off dead
A smile on the lips and a hole in the head
Better off dead, yeah better than this
Take it away, 'cause there's nothing to miss

Better off dead, yeah better off dead
Why don't you try pushing daisies instead?
Better off dead, yeah better off dead
A smile on the lips and a hole in the head

And I'll never make the same mistake,
The next time I create the universe
I'll make sure you participate
Oh yeah

And I'll never make the same mistake
The next time I create the universe
I'll make sure you participate
Just in case

. . .


now here i go,
hope i don't break down,
i won't take anything, i don't need anything,
don't want to exist, i can't persist,
please stop before i do it again,

just talk about nothing, let's talk about nothing,
let's talk about no one,
please talk about no one, someone, anyone
you and me have a disease,
you affect me, you infect me,
i'm afflicted, you're addicted,
you and me, you and me

i'm on the edge,
get against the wall,
i'm so distracted,
i love to strike you,
here's my confession,
you learned your lesson,
stop me before i do it again

just talk about nothing, let's talk about nothing,
let's talk about no one,
please talk about no one, someone, anyone
you and me have a disease,
you affect me, you infect me,
i'm afflicted, you're addicted,
you and me, you and me

you're clear - as a heavy lead curtain want
to drill you - like an ocean,
we can work it out, i've been running out, now i'm running out
don't be mad about it baby,
you and me, you and me,

just talk about nothing, let's talk about nothing,
let's talk about no one,
please talk about no one, someone, anyone
you and me have a disease,
you affect me, you infect me,
i'm afflicted, you're addicted,
you and me, you and me

i want to tie you, crucify you,
kneel before you, revile your body,
you and me, we're made in heaven,
i want to take you, i want to break you,
supplicate you, with thorny roses
you and me,are incurable,
i want to bathe you in holy water i want to kill you,
upon the alter, you and me, you and me.

. . .


television, television, television, television
oh yeah! i want to bask in your golden light,
submerge in electric waves,
i need my connection to the world outside
the world outside is buzzing like an angry wasp in summer,
the candidates are running, and soon the son of god is coming,
crackle mental convolutions tune in to the revolution,
whereby everyone's included so we'll never have to be alone
every atom of my body, blood and sinew, bone and fibre,
i can't distil you from my blood,
you're a hungry germ inside of me,
you're my lover, you're my heroine,
my conscience and my voice,
and i know that i have learned to let you in i
will lever have to be alone
i'd take after my mother but she's from a different generation,
i prefer my big brother he's so gentle and understanding,
and i learn what i can from him by the television light,
so that when i'm all alone i know everything's gonna be alright.


. . .


individuals run for cover,
for the multitudes of thoughtless clones have reached a critical mass,
individuals hide in fear, under cover,
sheltered by the wafer thin veil of intelligence
individuals, nowhere to be seen
urbana is oozing like a bloated carcass,
with maggots cooking in the desert heat,
oozing, with progeny writhing and desperate
for input from someone more determined
congregating in invisible circles,
half apart and half apart,
all too aware of the insignificance,
pushing on with soul and heart
individuals don't pray for forgiveness,
when pinned up against the wall under siege of persecution,
individuals command exception,
and accept dichotomy,
maybe you can't choose anymore
procreation without gain or purpose,
languid wills and torped minds,
catapulted ever faster by the arrow of time.


. . .


I can see my teenage father standing
straight on a desolate corner
in the shadow of tentacled towers by the
red light of America.
I imagine how his mother felt when she
heard that her husband was dying.
And the underground heroes of the tarmac
shooting smack were blowing up
world and
"damned!" out loud.
Hey , can you tell me how does it feel?

~ Yeah , tell me ... Can you imagine , for a
second , doing anything that you dont have
to?
Well thats what Im accustomed to so
hooray for me... ~

When I slept with stony faces on the
riverbank,
My angeldevil reveler shook me
desperately Im dying.
I dont exactly want to apologize for
anything.
And now we're all mad and tangled in
secret rooms with roman candles
On an endless graveyard train.

~ Yeah , tell me ... Can you imagine , for a
second , doing anything just 'cus you want
to?
Well thats just what i do so hooray for
me... ~

Yeah , I was dreaming through the
"howzlife" , yawning , car black,
when she told me "mad and meaningless
as ever... "
and a song came on my radio like a
cemetery rhyme
for a million crying corpses in their tragedy
of respectable existence

~ Yeah , tell me ... Can you imagine , for a
second , trying half the things you ever
wanted to ,
Well thats just what i do , so hooray for
me... ~

Oh yeah ... Im not respectable , and never
sensible , Ive been incredible
so damned irascible and I like the things I
do so Hooray for me...

. . .


So you're, feeling unimportant,
cuz you've got nothing to say,
and your life is just a ramble,
no one understands you anyway

well, i've got a piece of news, son,
that might make you change your mind,
your life is historically meaningful,
and spans a significant time

slumber will come soon,
and you are helping put it to sleep,
side by side we do our share faithfully
assuring that slumber will come soon
well, now do you feel a little better?,
lift up your head and walk away,
knowing we're all in this together,
for such a short time anyway
there is just no time to parade around sulking,
i would rather laugh than cry,
the rich, the poor, the strong, the weak,
we share this place together,
and we pitch in to help it die
i'm not good at giving morals,
and i don't fear the consequence,
if life makes you scared and bitter,
at least its not for very long.

. . .


if i'm a monster,
i am a willing one,
this roller coaster ride is an enticing one,
on the tip of a continuum flowing wavelike
through disorder carry me like a vessel to water
everything you see leaves a mark on your soul,
everything you feel leaves a mark on your soul,
everything you touch leaves a mark on your soul,
everything you make leaves a mark on your soul
if i can touch it,
i can destroy it,
if it's imaginable to some degree,
i can become it,
like a hungry turning vortex that just flickers to existence,
consuming bits and pieces until i'm finally extinguished
everyone you see leaves a mark on your soul,
everyone you bare leaves a mark on your soul,
everyone you touch leaves a mark on your soul,
everyone you love leaves a mark on your soul
everything you take leaves a mark on your soul,
everything you give leaves a mark on your soul,
and all the fear and loneliness that's impossible to control,
and every tear you cry leaves a mark on your soul.br


. . .


automatons with business suits swinging black boxes,
sequestering the blueprints of daily life
contented, free of care, they rejoice in morning ritual
as they file like drone ant colonies to their office in the sky

i don't ask questions, don't promote demonstrations,
don't look for new consensus, don't stray from constitution
if i pierce the complexity i won't find salvation
just the bald and over truth
of the evil and deception

there is an inner logic,
and we're taught to stay far from it
it is simple and elegant,
but it's cruel and antithetic
and there's no effort to reveal it

graduated mentors stroll in marbled brick porticos
in sagacious dialog they despise their average ways
betraying pomp and discipline, they mold their institution
where they practice exclusion on the masses every day

decorated warriors drill harmless kids on pavement
simulating tyranny under red alert
protecting the opulent and staging moral standard
they expect redemption of character and self-worth

(no equality, no opportunity,
no tolerance for the progressive alternative . . .)

. . .


here's a purpose, there's a goal,
there's a virtuos, and immoral,
there's a reason for all of this,
and i don't know what it is
i am one, and plural too,
i accept them but they exclude,
i could make sense of all of this,
but i don't know what it is
the seeds of inspiration never germinated in my mind,
the beacon of awakening is somewhere that i can't find, so
i don't know what it is
there's a beginning, and there's an end,
there's a climax, some would contend,
there's a way to signify this,
but i don't know what it is.


. . .


I can't believe it,
The way you look sometimes,
Like a trampled flag on a city street,
Oh yeah,
And I don't want it,
The things you're offering me,
Symbolized bar code quick ID,
Oh yeah,

cause i'm a 21st century digital boy,
i don't know how to live
But i got a lot of toys,
My daddy's a lazy middle class intellectual,
My mommy's on valium,
So ineffectual,
Ain't life a mystery?

I can't explain it,
The things they're saying to me,
It's going ya ya ya ya ya ya,
Oh yeah,

cause i'm a 21st century digital boy,
i don't know how to read
But i got a lot of toys,
My daddy's a lazy middle class intellectual,
My mommy's on valium,
So ineffectual,
Ain't life a mystery?

I tried to tell you about no control,
But now I really don't know,
And then you told me how bad you had to suffer,
Is that really all you have to offer?

cause i'm a 21st century digital boy,
i don't know how to read
But i got a lot of toys,
My daddy's a lazy middle class intellectual,
My mommy's on valium,
So ineffectual

That's what I yearn for (21st Century digital boy)
Neurosurgeons scream for more (21st Century digital boy)
Innocence raped with napalm fire (21st Century digital boy)
Everything I want, I really need (21st Century digital boy)
21st Century schizoid boy (21st Century digital boy)
21st Century video boy (21st Century digital boy)
21st Century digital boy (21st Century digital boy)
21st Century sofa boy (21st Century digital boy)

. . .


Blood is a river,
Flowing darkly amidst the tangled roots of the tall shining city
Crazy flowing mantide migrations
Engorge the big ventricle of heartbroken America
So many heaven hoping, hopeful groping breathers
All tap together quietly and desperately in unison
Hey, hey, hey, is anybody listening?

News from the front
News from the front
We're living in troubled times
So many fighting for their lives
Why do the troops despise the news from the front?

Ignorance is the root of fear
Fear is the kindling of anger
War is the bringer of shame
But never has the burden lain so heavily upon the victim
Rage and desolation
Pain and loneliness
Isn't it all alarmingly familiar?
Hey, hey, hey, silence is a killer

News from the front
News from the front
Yeah these are troubled times
How many more will have to die
Before the governors can't deny the news from the front?

Break down the barriers, ally the carriers,
What is your motivation? Take a good look in the mirror

News from the front
News from the front
So many are fighting for their lives
How many more will have to die?
Why does the government decry the news from the front?

. . .


You will all say
that I am surely crazy
Only an unrepentant pessimist
whose thoughts should be detained

But facts are sterile
not vulgar nor sublime
And they're not religion, they're for everyone
and signify the times

Today is a window
Tomorrow the landscape
All you need to do is take a look outside
to know what we're bound to face

The level of disparity
The common man
The manner of destruction of the native land
The poverty of reprisal from all involved
and the scathing trajectory from the past

Markovian process lead us not in vain
Prove to our descendants what we did to them
then make us go away

. . .


There's the image of a man
Who commands a high opinion
And he hides his hatred with a sheepish grin

And beside him flanking closely
Are the boisterous hollow masses
Who lap up whatever trickles in

This intercourse of nature
This vulgar social pastime
Reflects the lowest mark of our progress

And the few who ride peripheral
Maintain subtle advantage
Fighting hard to abstain and redress

Do you know your place
In the big charade?
Are you more than they?

Leaders and followers
Leaders and followers

Recognition by proximity and a brand new face
Just a smidgen of success pie and a pinch of social grace
You can play with the big boys or you can tell them what to do
But sooner or later there's another one like you

The voyeuristic public
Of which we're all a part
Maintains perspective on the human play

And while many have desires
Of joining in the show
Many turn and go the other way

Tell me do you know your place
In the big parade?
Are you fear and shame?

. . .


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