This is a sermon for the vermin nA song to draw bloodnA finger in the dam nTrying to hold back the floodnnWe are downnBut we're still not outnWe struggle with faith nIn the face of doubtnnSo is it a crime to think that we've found something more sublime?nThat we're somehow more alive?nThat we're not just busy dying?nnNo coincidence, it's by designnHerded into a pen with the rest of the swinenBorn to shine, or born to stand in line?nYou decidennSo you better step up to batnBefore your dreams get hammered flatnThis is the soundnEven when your ship has run agroundnnDon't let bastards get you down