Too cold the fire and brimstone
Too warm your lips alone
Too loud the static that crowds the telephone

Let's make it self-righteous and unbearable
Then let's give it something of which to take hold
"Fasten your seatbelts" speaks alone from the speakerphone overhead
"You'd beeter get out of bed" that's what he said
"You shoud lay down instead" is what she said

This bicycle calls for a rider
This song call for a singer
This reason calls for a rhyme
But where has your god gone?