The Flatliners - Christ Punchers | Текст песни

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• The Flatliners
• Christ Punchers

Will someone help him down?
Take those stakes out and lose the crown.
Give it up.
You know that no one here believes you.

You haven't got a clue
How long your tricks will stick around.
This swimming conclusion and all your people now.

Well I believe, I believe in reality.
Yeah, I believe, I believe
We're all addicted in the end to vulnerability.

Sunday bells are ringing out.
Dress up in your best dependency.
Don't point your finger at the world's hilarity.

These stories that serve as your mould
Are absolutely nothing more
Than ink on paper, truth be told.

Well I believe, I believe in reality.
Yeah, I believe, I believe...
Dear Mother, I am sorry.

Well I believe, I believe in reality.
Yeah, I believe, I believe
That this is all just a historical forgery.

Let's resurrect our faith
In the air we breath,
And not a man in the sky, oh please.

This is a celebration
Of our belief in reality.
Life can be quite simple.
Why don't you pull up a chair and see?

Turning water into wine in ancient times
Just doesn't do "holy" to me, I'm sorry.
I'd waste my time, otherwise, on Sunday.

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