In God We Trust, INC. lyrics

[Chorus]
All religions make me wanna throw up
All religions make me sick
All religions make me wanna throw up
All religions suck
They all claim that they have the truth
That'll set you free
Just give 'em all your money and they'll set you free
Free for a fee

They all claim that they have 'the Answer'
When they don't even know the Question
They're just a bunch of liars
They just want your money

You call yourself the Moral Majority
We call ourselves the people in the real world
Trying to rub us out, but we're going to survive
God must be dead if you're alive

You say, 'God loves you. Come and buy the Good News'
Then you buy the president and swimming pools
If Jesus don't save 'til we're lining your pockets
God must be dead if you're alive

Circus-tent con-men and Southern belle bunnies

I'm tired of kissin' ass
I can't sit still all day
You know I know your school's a lie
That's why you dragged me here

'You're a hyperactve child
You're disruptive, you're too wild
We're going to calm you down
Now this won't hurt a bit'

Drag me to the floor
Pullin' down my pants
Ram a needle up my butt
Put my brain into a trance

'No more hyperactive child
Got too much of a mind

I finally found a job in a paper
Movin' barrels at a chemical plant
There's shiny-looking dust on my fingers
Goin' up my nose and into my lungs

It's the Kepone poisoning-Minamata
Kepone poisoning-Minamata
At the grimy Kepone Factory
Turning people into bonzai trees

Now I've got these splitting headaches
I can't quite get it up no more
I can't sleep and it's driving me crazy

Dog bite
On my leg
Not right
Supposed to beg
Daily to the filling station
Underwater navigation

Oh
Oh
Oh

Punk ain't no religious cult
Punk means thinking for yourself
You ain't hardcore cos you spike your hair
When a jock still lives inside your head

Nazi punks
Nazi punks
Nazi punks-Fuck Off!

Nazi punks
Nazi punks
Nazi punks-Fuck Off!

If you've come to fight, get outa here
You ain't no better than the bouncers
We ain't trying to be police
When you ape the cops it ain't anarchy

Last call for alcohol.
Last call for your freedom of speech.
Drink up. Happy hour is now enforced by law.
Don't forget our house special, it's called a Trickie Dickie Screwdriver.
It's got one part Jack Daniels, two parts purple Kool-Aid,
and a jigger of formaldehyde
from the jar with Hitler's brain in it we got in the back storeroom.
Happy trails to you. Happy trails to you.

God damn, well let's do a tune called Rawhide, okay
God damn tape's rollin', let's go

Let's move 'em out
1, 2, 3, 4

Rolin' rollin' rollin'
Rolin' rollin' rollin'
Rolin' rollin' rollin'
Rolin' rollin' rollin'
Keep rollin' rollin' rollin'
Though the streams are swollen
Keep them dogies rollin'
Keep them dogies rollin'
Keep them dogies rollin'

Rawhide
Don't try to understand them