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No substance

by Bad Religion

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History doesn´t make something right
Consensus is not a fact-based exercise
You´re tied and bound to this selfindulgent enterprise...
We call America
A brush with a star, a token of love
A name in the sand, enough is enough
A diet of air, a face on the net
A fish your palm, your television set
Once you convince yourself
The universe falls into place
You´ve got your ideas
And your posse of friends
You all make up rules
And the fun never ends
But still there´s a problem that leaves you gasping for air
You look for some meaning, blank smiles are all that´s there
And still water stales a soft summer breeze
You cling to your hopes while your drop to your knees
There´s no substance
Once you convince yourself
The universe falls into place
You´ve got your ideas
And your posse of friends
You all make up rules
And the fun never ends
But still there´s a problem that leaves you gasping for air
You look for some meaning, blank smiles are all that´s there
And still water stales a soft summer breeze
You cling to your hopes while your drop to your knees
There´s no substance
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