Somebody’s son’s back there tied up to the tubes The medics pushing the stuff that makes the junkies drool 13 minutes till Monmouth Med I'm ripping through the lights In the shotgun somebody’s son‘s girlfriend starts to close her eyes But Mary snaps awake and gets it off her chest She gave a ten percent to the priest of Saint James mass God, she could really use that cash to afford this ride God she’s paying, might just let her boy back there die You think all your troubles might’ve won you something Sitting around at a banquet of nothing Torn apart two ways Cursing church and state Every single [?] waiting to break Knowing the future’s [?] away Cursing church and state The boy’s a factory, taking the shadow of the airport He found a woman who loves him like the girl he’s been looking for But Mary’s got it all figured out And she needs him to decide [?] both keep him alive and just when You think all your troubles might’ve won you something Sitting around at a banquet of nothing Torn apart two ways Cursing church and state Every single [?] waiting to break Knowing the future’s [?] away Cursing church and state Sterile field, fluorescent lights The quiet rush to save a life It’s not your fault, you know that right? It’s not your fault you close your eyes You think all your troubles might’ve won you something Sitting around at a banquet of nothing Torn apart two ways Cursing church and state Every single [?] waiting to break Knowing the future’s [?] away Cursing church and state