Letras: Bad Religion. Recipe For Hate. American Jesus.

I don't need to be a global citizen,
because I'm blessed by nationality,
I'm a member of a growing populace,
we enforced our popularity
there are things that seem to pull us under
and there are things that drag us down,
but there's a power and a vital presence
that's lurking all around
we've got the American Jesus
see him on the interstate,
we've got the American Jesus
he helped build the president's estate
I feel sorry for the earth's population
'cause so few live in the U.S.A,
at least the foreigners can copy our morality,
they can visit but they cannot stay,
only precious few can garner our prosperity,
it makes us walk with renewed confidence,
we've got a place to go when we die
and the architect resides right here
we've got the American Jesus
overwhelming millions every day
(exercising his authority)
he's the farmer barren fields,
the force the army wields,
the expression in the faces
of the starving children,
the power of the man.
he's the fuel that drives the clan,
he's the motive and the conscience
of the murderer
he's the preacher on TV,
the false sincerity,
the form letters that written by
the big computers,
he's the nuclear bombs,
and the kids with no moms
and I'm fearful that
he's inside me.