Bad Religion - No Control



No Control Cover

1. Change Of Ideas (Graffin), 0:54
2. Big Bang (Gurewitz), 1:40
3. No Control (Graffin), 1:44
4. Sometimes I Feels Like... *?!%+!* (Gurewitz), 1:32
5. Automatic Man (Gurewitz), 1:38
6. I Want To Conquer The World (Gurewitz), 2:16
7. Sanity (Gurewitz), 2:44
8. Henchman (Graffin), 1:03
9. It Must Look Pretty Appealing (Graffin), 1:21
10. You (Gurewitz), 2:06
11. Progress (Graffin), 2:12
12. I Want Something More (Gurewitz), 0:46
13. Anxiety (Graffin), 2:08
14. Billy (Gurewitz), 1:56
15. The World Won't Stop (Graffin), 1:52



Change Of Ideas

well the sheaves have all been brought,
but the fields have washed away
and the palaces now stand
where the coffins all were laid
and the times we see ahead
we must glaze with rosy hues
for we don't wish to admit
what it is we have to lose

millennia in coming
the modern age is here
it sanctifies the future
yet renders us with fear
so many theories, so many prophecies
what we do need is a change of ideas
when we are scared
we can hide in our reveries
but what we need is a change of ideas
change of ideas, change of ideas
what we need now is a change of ideas



Big Bang

this isn't another new fashion
or a new wave plastic trend
everybody's searching for something
but in the mean time let's all just pretend
I've got this feeling
and I don't know what it is
this room is overcrowded, man,
and I need air to breath

big bang, big crunch
you know there's no free lunch
kneel down and pray
here comes your judgment day
big crunch, you know
it's going to be quite a show
what goes around always comes around

a million hopeless faces
dwell within protected walls
all waiting for a moment in their lives
when they can heed the clarion call
and it's all so oppressive
my mind feels like a sieve
this city is overcrowded, man,
and I need room to live

I think of the countless shadows
that have all come and gone
all suffering in the notion of better things to come
if you share these beliefs
you know I wish you well
'cause there's no room left in heaven
and there's sure no room in hell!


No Control

culture was the seed of proliferation
but it has gotten melded into an inharmonic whole
consciousness has plagued us and we can not shake it
though we think we're in control
questions that besiege us in life
are testament of our helplessness
"there's no vestige of a beginning,
no prospect of an end" (Hutton, 1795)
when we all disintegrate it will all happen again

time is so rock solid in the minds of the hoards but they can't
explain why it should slip away
history and future are the comforts of
our curiosity but here we are
rooted in the present day

if you came to conquer you'll be king for a day
but you too will deteriorate and quickly fade away
and believe these words you hear
when you think your path is clear

we have no control
we do not understand
you have no control
you are not in command!


Sometimes I Feel Like

there's a spectre in the corner of an illustrated page
and a lonesome muted stripling with a rapt remedial gaze
the poverty of his language and the wealth of his emotion
bring him endless murky musings and unexpected frustration
angst and madness weave the fabric of his life
tomorrow might be better
but right now it feels like
#&%#"@$#!"&(*""%%75838769%("%56("5965&65"$"%423!(060_*"7534#

there's a panther wild and proud
behind the doors of a redolent cage
and an undeveloped intellect
filled with impotent and static rage
and don't think you're exempt
if you earn a good weekly wage
'cause your neighbor's going crazy
and insanity's contagious!
I know there's so much you want to say
but your tongue gets in the way
and sometimes it feels like
)"&*()"&$%#68%3*(48"&%

I know there's so much you want to say
and the tumbrel of your mind gets in the way
it's the same for everybody to degrees
we all get that foggy freeze
and sometimes it feels like
%&$#*%(&")""$%@*%)*&"%(65("$8%$#&3("5(&%)9%9"$868


Automatic Man

he's the latest super hero with powers so profound
he can leap a dotted line in just a single bound
I know you must have seen him in books and magazines
he's the quintessential, mindless, modern epicene
his life is meaningful because he get things done
(bang bang) he's dead
chalk up another triumph for our hero
the automatic man

it's true you must have met him
he's your best friend and your foe
his opinions are determined by the status quo
a true creature of habit
he smokes three packs a day
when he has an original thought
he forgets it right away

he's a paradigm of carefree living
he's our mentor disturb him if you can
he's the answer if your peace of mind is lacking
he's our savior
he is the common man

so if you are troubled by the daily bump and grind
then take a careful look around
and brother you will find...
the automatic man


I Want To Conquer The World

hey brother christian with your high and mighty errand
your actions speak so loud I can't hear a word you're saying
hey sister bleeding heart with all of your compassion
your labors soothe the hurt but can't assuage temptation

hey man of science with your perfect rules of measure
can you improve this place with the data that you gather
hey mother mercy can your loins bear fruit forever?
is your fecundity a trammel or a treasure?

I want to conquer the world
give all the idiots a brand new religion
put an end to poverty, uncleanliness and toil
promote equality in all of my decisions
with a quick wink of the eye and a "god you must be joking!"

hey mister diplomat with your worldly aspirations
did you see your children cry when you left them at the station?
hey moral soldier you've got righteous proclamation
and precious tomes to fuel your pulpy conflagrations

I want to conquer the world
expose the culprits and feed them to the children
I'll do away with air pollution
and then I'll save the whales
we'll have peace on earth
and global communion


Sanity

there's a watch in my pocket and its hands are broken
the face is blank but the gears are turning
confusion is a fundamental state of mind
it doesn't really matter what I'm figuring out
I'm guaranteed to wind up in a state of doubt
and sanity is a full-time job
in a world that is always changing
and sanity is a state of mind that you believe in
sanity

there's a shadow on the wall where the paint is peeling
my body's moving forward but my mind is reeling
depression is a fundamental state of being
it doesn't really matter how my day has turned out
I always end up living in this world of doubt


Henchman

stranded
in a life in which your struggle for acceptance
is a never-ending chore
upbraided
for your actions past and present and rewarded for ideas
of the future's bright open door
the henchman
is the human analogue of the suffering multitudes
who like good dogs sit and lick for their reward
so what good advice have I got for you
to insure against your likely metamorphosis into this reprobate?
don't be a henchman!
stand on your laurels
do what no one else does
praise the good of other men for good man's sake
and when everyone else in the world follows your lead
(although a cold day in hell it will surely be)
that's when the entire world shall live in harmony


It Must Look Pretty Appealing

the wheat waving next to you is healthy and so fine
as is dinner with your loved-ones every day
but your routine is changeless
through the decades of your life
green pastures, open spaces, holy ways

and it must look pretty appealing
the acres of lights
the crowded festive nights
and the millions of others just like you
it must look pretty appealing
this other world of sin
we keep dreaming of what other people do

the person sitting next to you is dismal and deranged
on the bus ride home from work to end your day
and the food on your table is more plastic than protein
and your intellect depends on your TV

and it must look pretty appealing
the pastoral retreat
the folks on old main street
and the few pleasant people just like you
it must look pretty appealing
the simple way of life
we keep dreaming of what other people do
but we never do what other people do
you're too scared of other people not like you


You

there's a place where everyone can be happy
it's the most beautiful place in the whole fuckin' world
it's made of candy canes and planes
and bright, red choo choo trains
and the meanest little boys
the most innocent little girls
and you know, I wish that I could go there
it's a road that I have not found
and I wish you the best of luck, dear,
drop a card or letter to my side of town
'cause there's no time for fussing and fighting my friend
but baby I'm amazed by the hate that you can send
and you
painted my entire world
but I
don't have the terpentine to clean what you have soiled
and I won't forget it

there's a place where everyone can be right
even though you remain determined to be opposed
admittance requires no qualifications
it's where everyone has been and where everybody goes
so please try not to be impatient
for we all hate standing in line
and when the farm is good and bought
you'll be there without a thought
and eternity my friend, is a long fuckin' time


Progress

and progress is not intelligently planned
it's the facade of our heritage
the odor of our land
they speak of progress
in red, white and blue
it's the structure of the future
as demise comes seething through
it's progress 'til there's nothing left to gain
as the dearth of new ideas
makes us wallow in our shame
so before you go to contribute more
to the destruction of this world you adore
remember life on earth is but a flash of dawn
and we're all part of it as the day rolls on

and progress is a message that we send
one step closer to the future
one inch closer to the end
I say progress is a synonym of time
we are all aware of it but it's nothing we refine
and progress is a debt we all must pay
it's convenience we all cherish
it's pollution we disdain
and the cutting edge is dulling
too many folks to plow through
just keep your fuckin' distance
and it can't include you!


I Want Something More

going through a world of sad debris
regard quixotic reveries of ownership
the blossoming disease of man called tenure and accretion
the ancient western treadmill of deception and derision
but I want something more

racing through a life of tragic wastage
I experience the loss of trust and innocence
the billowing cyclone of time has blown away our reasons
as we trudge like blind men forward trying to avoid collision
but I want something more


Anxiety

it's a love song to the self
a story recapped every day
it's a world of bogus feelings
and a world of slow decay
it's 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
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 elan
so run around your frantic track and lay you down to sleep
tomorrow's the redemption
we strive for that exception

anxiety for love of life
anxiety for pain
anxiety, 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

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 end 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


Billy

I can recall the warm youth of a summer day
the sweetest lemonade
the darkest game arcade
and billy had a yearning in the corner of his mind
it moved him secretly
it moved him powerfully
but prescience was lacking and the present was all
and his aptitudes were carelessly wasted
and challenging life with the abandon of a fool
he squandered the hours of his day

then darkness and disorder slapped him sharply in the face
it hit him like a friend
struck something deep within
he couldn't break the chain of slow decay that seemed to drag him
just like a fatal tie
toward the other side
and billy was a lunatic just barking at the moon
and his brain was totally wasted
he then exchanged his friends for a needle and a spoon
and he threw his future away

bolt the door and throw away the key
your dim reflection is all that you can see
so where is the justice when no one is at fault
and a human life is tragically wasted?
how fragile is the flame that burns within us all
to light each passing day?


The World Won't Stop

you've got to quit your little charade
and join the freak parade
now that your road has been paved
from conception to your grave
there are enormous things to do
others' practices to eschew
to be better than you is impossible to do
but the world won't stop without you!

your achievements are unsurpassed
you are highly-ordered mass
but you can bet your ass
your free energy will dissipate
two billion years thus far
now mister here you are
an element in a sea of enthalpic organic compounds

you're only as elegant as your actions let you be
a piece of chaos related phylogenetically
to every living organ system they're siblings don't you see
the earth rotates and will revolve without you constantly

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