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Bad Religion Blenderhead
flying through a dark prismatic tunnel on a carousel, the earth is turning and you know it very well, your mind is reeling like ten helicopters wheeling and you're gonna hit the ceiling like a mallet on a bell,
hey, blenderhead, they're starting to ask questions, your transgressions are a danger flashing sign, challenge conventions and radiate your splendor and feel those flywheels churn on your blenderhead
tally up the gleaming ventured in a wishing well, each shining trinket has a story it can tell, your moments pining like those tales all intertwining can become the rusted lining of a deep neglected shell,
hey, blenderhead, you ask so many questions, your confusion's a life-affirming sign, break from tradition and carry on with valor and feel those flywheels churn your blenderhead
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