Shank -

What we did was secret Our isolation drove our need to create Now it all be bought on a toll-free number Pre-packaged rebellion, a counter-culture commodity And when the preacher opens his mouth We're held in rapture by his words (even though we're not really listening) Just so long as his accent fits And now we're trapped in this cargo cult A long-distance love affair Unrequited and ignored As vapid as those we worship When the leader raises his hands We salute en masse, terrified Even though we've forgotten what it was We were fighting for all these years ago