Dogma - KMFDM

All we want is a head-rush

All we want is to get out of our skin for a while

We have nothing to lose because we don’t have anything

Anything we want anyway…

We used to hate people

Now we just make fun of them

It’s more effective that way

We don’t live

We just scratch on, day to day

With nothing but matchbooks and sarcasm in our pockets

And all we are waiting for is for something worth waiting for

Let’s admit America gets the celebrities we deserve

Let’s stop saying, «Don't quote me» because if no one quotes you

You probably haven’t said a thing worth saying

(Sex, drugs, God, cash

Sex, drugs, God… America)

We need something to kill the pain of all that nothing inside

(Sex, drugs, God, cash

Sex, drugs, God… America)

We all just want to die a little bit

We fear that pop-culture is the only kind

Of culture we’re ever going to have

We want to stop reading magazines

Stop watching TV

Stop caring about Hollywood

But we’re addicted to the things we hate

We don’t run Washington and no one really does

Ask not what you can do for your country

Ask what your country did to you

(Sex, drugs, God, cash

Sex, drugs, God… America)

The only reason you’re still alive is because someone

Has decided to let you live

(Sex, drugs, God, cash

Sex, drugs, God… America)

We owe so much money, we’re not broke — we’re broken

We’re so poor we can’t even pay attention

So what do you want?

You want to be famous and rich and happy

But you’re terrified you have nothing to offer this world

Nothing to say and no way to say it

But you can say it in three languages

You are more than the sum of what you consume

Desire is not an occupation

You are alternately thrilled and desperate

Sky high and fucked

Let’s stop praying for someone to save us and start saving ourselves

Let’s stop this and start over

Let’s go out — let’s keep going

(Sex, drugs, God, cash

Sex, drugs, God… America)

This is your life — this is your fucking life

(America…

Sex, drugs, God, cash

Sex, drugs, God… America)

We need something to kill the pain of all that nothing inside

(America… America)

Quit whining, you haven’t done anything wrong because frankly

You haven’t done much of anything

(Sex, drugs, God, cash

Sex, drugs, God… America)

Someone’s writing down your mistakes

Someone’s documenting your downfall