Текст: Planes Mistaken For Stars. Mercy. Church Date.

Son of a bitch, it seems we've been tricked.
Our heroes were whores and our martyrs just masochists.
Lest you forget, we all but asked for this.
Son of a bitch, it seems the Lord has split, the preacher he's cracking, the crippled they're fasting,
The tent is on fire, the tent is on fire, the tent is on fire, and we're all just gasping.
Lest you forget, we all but ask for this