I woke up with a rifle loaded with history Duct-taped like a band-aid to my hands I had to learn to shoot Before I learned to stand And I can't tell If this is hell Mussolini taught me all of the trick shots Saint Augustine said that I'd make the band I learned to fly Before I learned to land And I can't tell If this is hell The pastor's been mocking my religion I have faith in facts based on certainties I don't need to know the gender that you fear the most We're apes in clothes with ideas that grow ♪ It's hard to make a good decision When your web of choices have been defiled And all comprised Of a way above lies Oh, is this hell? Is this hell? Is this hell? Is this hell? Is this hell? Is this hell? (Is this hell? Is this hell? Is this hell? Is this hell?) (Is this hell? Is this hell? Is this hell? Is this hell?) (Is this hell? Is this hell? Is this hell? Is this hell?) (Is this hell? Is this hell? Is this hell? Is this hell?) I saw a man kill this one (where?) One shot, went to their heart (Are you sure?) Still there What was he? (Someone)