The Waiting Game
If you believe in reincarnation, why wait till you’re dead?
Inhabit the body of an animal now, a jack rabbit or a moose perhaps
If you believe in heaven, why wait until you’re dead?
Enter Valhalla by taking 1-10 North until you run out of road.
If you believe that Earth is a spaceship, why sit like a bored passenger?
Assume the captains seat and take us all in a new direction, just watch out for Jupiter …
If you’re afraid of your life is scribbled on an index card in god’s back pocket.
Perform so many acts of hedonism, that no velvet painting can do your debauchery justice.
If you yearn to reorder the hierarchy with Malcolm & Bobby, why wait until you’re dead?
Head to your makeup trailer, run over your lines, then speak the truth to the unsuspecting.
If you believe, what are you gonna believe? Believe whatever you want.
If you believe in the scientific method, why look down your nose at the righteous?
Fill your beaker with the blood of their sacrifice and prove impossibility through a microscope.
If you believe in friendship, why wait until they’re dead to hold a vigil?
Candles are as cheap as the thrift store t-shirts that cover your girlfriends floor.
If you believe that love knows no bounds, why wait until you’re in love to rise up?
Call a random stranger at their home and let them know you’re on your way over with flowers. (That’s not creepy at all.)
If you live in the past, or live in the future, or live outside of your means
Your dreams will never grow up to be happy, sexually-adventurous teenagers
They’re just gonna die horrible, miserable, sad deaths
If you believe like I do that a new dawn is breaking
Why are you waiting on the government? Just fix the damn thing.
If you believe in fast cars and money make can turn a fool into a king
Head to the nearest ATM and strap a chain to it. I’m sure your Porsche has enough torque.
If you believe in Democrats, or Unitarians, or Picasso, or Lester Holt
Cast your net into the void and wait for salvation to bring you a shiny new jacket
If you believe in ghosts, why wait until you’re dead?
Just shut your mouth and recede into the background of the life you have left
© 2018 Inglewood Social Club. Words by Brian Relleva and Landry Butler. Used by permission. All rights reserved.
- Landry Butler: vocals
- Sam Naff: guitars
- John Smith: bass, drums
- John Weatherly: guitars
- Mixed at Amy Road by John Smith
- Mastered by John Weatherly at FeverTone Audio