A sullen figure walks along a dusty road
his life was holy and he couldn't bear the load
he left his people and a simple life behind
he raised his torso and he looked into the sky
shouting his questions
looking for directions
'what do I do now?'
now a confused school girl stares at the TV tray
the stresses of maturing compound every day
she glances up to see her favorite video
and gets ideas from Madonna's nasty clothes
in need of affection
she craves affection
her heroes offer her
everyone is looking for something
and they assume somebody else knows what it is
no one can live with the decisions of their own it seems
so they look to someone else
to tell 'em what to be
tell 'em what to wear
tell 'em what to say
tell 'em how to act and think and compel others compulsively
until the world is all like them
a righteous student came and asked me to reflect
he judged my lifestyle ws politically incorrect
I don't belive in self important folks who preach
no Bad Religion song can make your life complete
you'll get no direction from me
you'll get no direction from me