Texty: Bad Religion. No Control. Progress.

:
and progress is not intelligently planned,
it's the facade of our heritage,
the odor of our land,
they speak of progress,
in red, white and blue,
it's the structure of the future as
demise comes seething through
it's the progress till there's nothing left to gain,
as the dearth of new ideas
makes us wallow in our shame,
so before you go to contribute more
to the destruction of this world you adore,
remember life on earth is but a flash of dawn,
and we're all part of it as the day rolls on
and progress is a message that we send
one step closer to the future,
one inch closer to the end,
I say progress, is a synonym of time,
we are all aware of it but it's nothing we refine,
and progress, is a debt we all must pay,
it's convenience we all cherish,
it's the pollution we disdain,
and the edge is dulling,
too many folks to plow through,
just keep your fucking distance
and it can not include you.