See my body, it's nothing to get hung about. I'm nobody except genetic runaround. Spiritual era's gone, it ain't comin' back. Bad religion, a cabal, that is all that's left. Hey Mr. Mind, stop wasting my time, With your factory precision. Factory precision is your Bad religion, too good to take. Indecision, it's not too late. Bad religion, bad religion. Ay! Don't you know the place you live's a piece of shit? Don't you know blind faith in life will conquer it? Don't you know responsibility is ours? I don't care a think about eternal fires. Listen this time, it's more than a rhyme, It's your indecision. Your indecision is your Bad religion, too good to take. Indecision, it's not too late. Bad religion, too good to take. Indecision, it's not too late. Bad religion, bad religion, Bad religion.
Note: This was the first of three recorded versions of this song. The other two versions (and every performance I ever saw) had the line "It's conjured up in lies" replacing "It's your indecision" in the second chorus.
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