Bad Religion. Recipe For Hate. Zeneszám

can't you feel it, can't you see it
the promise of prosperity,
it's overwhelming you and me
it afflicts us like a disease,
ubiquitous compelling too
we cling to you like crazy glue,
and inject such a potent seed
it's best for all humanity,
the spread of culture,
the sword of progress,
the vector of suffrage a warm and
septic breeze,
the pomp and elation,
the duty and vocation,
the blood of the hybrid
it's just a recipe
re-living our ancestry
the frightful lack of harmony,
our fore-fathers who led the way,
their victims are still here today,
now it's time to erase the story
of our bogus fate,
our history as it's portrayed
it's just a recipe for hate.