i don’t want the spirit, i want the kick drum
i don’t want the spirit, i want the kick drum
i know how it works, oh i’m not dumb
i don’t want the spirit, i want the kick drum
like sex without love
like peace without the dove
like a crime scene without the blood
i don’t want the spirit, you know i want the kick drum
i don’t want the son, i want a jury of peers
i don’t want the son, i want a jury of peers
mascara’s gonna run when you see my tears
i don’t want the son, i want a jury of peers
like lies without the truth
like wine without the fruit
like a skydive without the chute
i don’t want the son, you know i want a jury of peers
i don’t want the spirit, you know i want the kick drum
i don’t want the father, want a vending machine
i don’t want the father, want a vending machine
i know what i want if you know what i mean
i don’t want the father, want a vending machine
like heaven without gates
like hell without flames
like life without pain
i don’t want the father, you know i want a vending machine
i don’t want the son, you know i want a jury of peers
i don’t want the spirit, you know i want the kick drum