The angel cries "you bastard!"

As we analyze the accent

So look out, you rock'n'rollers

Over forty million served

And that's a record for the master

It stood forever after

So are we, are we, are we, are we facing

The end of all, of all the drugs we're lacing

With common sense and courtesy

And other things we thought would be the end of us

But now they won't allow us our intentions

Oh the mother of invention

It's her pleasure to repeat with feeling:

Are we, are we, are we, are we facing

The end of all the medicine we're taking?

Somewhere in the system

There's an open ended list

Of all the lies we tell

Unblinking, thinking

What could we be living?

Is it life

Or is it even in the realm of possibility?

You see it when you're missing

Who you came to see, is this thing

Even on and on and on?

Are we, are we, are we, are we facing

The end of all the medicine we're taking?