Vārdi:
Bad Religion The Empire Strikes First

Somewhere high in the desert near a curtain of a blue St. Anne's skirts are billowing But down here in the city of the lime lights The fans of Santa Ana

Here we go now No one here can show you where it is but I can point to a sign On the roof of the world without apparent design The frozen definition

Strikin' at mental apparitions Like a drunk on a vacant street Silently beset by the hands of time Indelicate in its fury An aberrant crack as skeletons

The road is narrow, the horizon wide And to say what's waiting on the other side Is so rewarding and the ultimate prize But what good is something if

Ohh ohh ohh ohh ohh Ohh ohh ohh ohh ohh Innocence burned, a line on the stake Tortured and dumped in nameless graves Centuries waned, authority died

We strike first And we're unrehearsed Here we go again To stage the greatest show On heaven and earth Come on, get your money's worth Don't wanna live

Not long ago, and yet the image is so vague I hesitate to label it a memory There was a show of local color and I failed to stray 'Cause I had nothin'

Tulkojums: Bad Reliģija. Impērija dod atbildes triecienu Pirmā.

: There's a prophet on a mountain and he's making up dinner with long division and writing crop anybody can feel like a winner when it's served up