Bad Religion – Turn on The Light
I had a friend who kept a candle in his pocket,
He used to touch it when the wind was blowing high,
I guess it made him feel like he could buck the system
And when it flickered out we laid him down to die,
Turn on the light,
Turn on a million blinding brilliant white incendiary lights, (yeah)
A beacon in the night,
I´ll burn relentlessly until my juice runs dry, (yeah)
I´ll construct a rack of tempered beams and trusses
And equip it with a million tiny suns,
I´ll install upon the room of my compartment
And place tinfoil on my floor and on my walls then i´ll
Turn on the light,
Turn on a million blinding brilliant white incendiary lights, (yeah)
A beacon in the night,
I´ll burn relentlessly until my juice runs dry,
And I´ll burn like a roman fucking candle
Burn like a chasm in the night
Burn for a miniscule duration,
Ecstatic immolation, incorrigible delight