Waiting to go to school on some suburban road
They took my backpack and emptied it in the snow
The kids at the bus stop screamed nothing.
I saw an old lady one time on Astor Place
steal an old man's glasses and punch him in the face
Me and the others screamed nothing.
And what's the difference if the bombs fall from the sky
And what's the difference if you like being alive
Yeah what's the difference, 'cause we're all just gonna die.
A crucifix and two framed pictures of the pope
I passed them all as I got evicted from my home.
My Catholic landlord screamed "Amen."
We don't believe in God or spirits in the sky.
Unless we're desperate and need to justify
the shitty things we do so we apologize
"Ya gotta get rid of my guilt, God."
Before I fled the scene I smeared my shit along the baseboards
Took the moldy foodstuffs, lined them up along the tile floor
Jerked off on the window screen, fridge open and toilet running
Barely felt reprieve before the deluge of regret came flooding
Now I can't get to sleep because I have this useless conscience.
And I can't get revenge due to this stupid moral compass.
And honestly I feel that all these feelings aren't worth it in the end.
We don't believe in God or spirits in the sky
Unless we're desperate or know someone who died.
We gain perspective and we start to change our lives
Then still do shitty things when the moment arrives.
So what's the difference if the bombs fall from the sky
So what's the difference if you like being alive
Yeah what's the fucking point of thinking as you die
"Ya gotta forgive all my sins, God."
