Texty: Bad Religion. Stranger Than Fiction. Hooray For Me....

Well 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 that underground heroes of the tarmac
Shoot smack were blowing up worlds
And damned out loud
Hey can you tell me how does it feel?

Yeah, tell me, can you imagine, for a second
Doin' anything that you don't have to?
Well that's what I'm accustomed to, so 'Hooray for me'
And fuck you

When I slept with stony faces on the riverbank
My angel devil reveler shook me desperately in dying
I don't 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
Doin' anything just 'cuz you want to?
Well, that's just what I do, so 'Hooray for me'
And fuck you

Yeah, I was dreaming through the 'How's life' yawning
Car back at that night, 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

Tell me, can you imagine, for a second
Doin' everythin's you ever wanted to?
Well, that's just what I do, so 'Hooray for me'

Oh, yeah, I'm not respectable, and never sensible
May be incredible so damned irascible
I like the things I do so 'Hooray for me'
And fuck you