Besedila: Bad Religion. No Control. Anxiety.

a love song to the self,
a story recapped every day,
a world of bogus feelings
and a world of slow decay.
a world of laughter hidden by this world
of fear and torment
a game of strange compulsion,
our visceral convulsion
anxiety for love of life,
anxiety for pain,
anxiety, a feeling that you know
you can't contain
(a fear that you have nothing more to gain)
anxiety destroys us
but it drives the common man,
foundation of society anxiety
suppress it if you can
the caste of coffee-achievers didn't perform like they planned,
the morning rush hour traffic is our play of false plan,
so run around your frantic track and lay you down to sleep,
tomorrow's the redemption
we strive for that exception
what are we angry for?
we all need a common cure,
that common goal for which you strive
to have more than the other guy
the quest for the truth,
the quest for the gold we en up all the same,
the common lie,
the righteous cry we end up all the same,
the angry crowd,
those lost and found everybody's all the same,
the poet's pen,
these words I lend,
we all bend to anxiety.