Picked a spot below the drop
Knew something was about to fall
I've been waiting around for long enough
Now I hear my non-call
We're not subjects of your stupid precepts
We're built on grains of truth
It's a no-class, sight-unseen report
Not swayed by your abuse


I'm not boxed in

Religious convention is your own invention
Called the lightning-fast fist of Man
But religious slates don't dictate our fate
I don't walk around in a trance
Disbelief is what we preach
To the troubles that make up our mind
When things fall short of expectations
It's time to redefine