Somebody’s son’s back there tied up to the tubes
The medics pushing the stuff that makes the junkies drool
13 minutes till Monmouth Med
I'm ripping through the lights
In the shotgun somebody’s son‘s girlfriend starts to close her eyes
But Mary snaps awake and gets it off her chest
She gave a ten percent to the priest of Saint James mass
God, she could really use that cash to afford this ride
God she’s paying, might just let her boy back there die

You think all your troubles might’ve won you something
Sitting around at a banquet of nothing
Torn apart two ways
Cursing church and state
Every single [?] waiting to break
Knowing the future’s [?] away
Cursing church and state

The boy’s a factory, taking the shadow of the airport
He found a woman who loves him like the girl he’s been looking for
But Mary’s got it all figured out
And she needs him to decide
[?] both keep him alive and just when

You think all your troubles might’ve won you something
Sitting around at a banquet of nothing
Torn apart two ways
Cursing church and state
Every single [?] waiting to break
Knowing the future’s [?] away
Cursing church and state

Sterile field, fluorescent lights
The quiet rush to save a life
It’s not your fault, you know that right?
It’s not your fault you close your eyes

You think all your troubles might’ve won you something
Sitting around at a banquet of nothing
Torn apart two ways
Cursing church and state
Every single [?] waiting to break
Knowing the future’s [?] away
Cursing church and state