Gang Of Youths Evangelists
Awake my father
Tell him you're dying
Abandoned by your white cells and your body
And he is sleeping still
Like a temple
Through the million scans
And sticks of the needle
But I have made more friends in hell
Than I've made in Jesusland
Awake our parents
Tell them we're leaving
We're not evangelists
With that kind of money
But I don't know if time is against us
But there's so many things
That I want to begin
But I have made more friends in hell
Than I've made in Jesusland
And I left my heart in the war
With the skyline state of the enemy
And it takes some to die for reform
But honey, we're not evangelists
Awake my children
Get dressed, we're leaving
There's a million ways
To sing hallelujah
And fill our days with
Armchair philosophies
And terrible things
That happened to us
And I have made more friends in hell
Than I've made in Jesusland
Hell, hell, hell, hell
Hell, hell, hell, hell
Hell, hell, hell, hell
Hell, hell, hell, hell
And I left my heart in the war
In the skyline state of the enemy
And it takes some to die for reform
But honey, we're not evangelists
And I left my heart in New York
With the skyline's standing ovation and
Yeah it takes some to die for us all
But honey, we're not evangelists