And progress is not intelligently planned;
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It's the facade of our heritage, the odor of our land. They speak of
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Progress, in red, white and blue.
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It's the structure of the future as demise comes seething through. It's
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Progress, 'til there's nothing left to gain,
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As the dearth of new ideas makes us wallow in our shame.
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So before you go contribute more
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To the destruction of this world you adore,
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Remember life on Earth is but a flash of dawn
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We're all part of it as the day rolls on.
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And progress is a message that we send.
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One step closer to the future, one inch closer to the end. I say
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That progress is a synonym of time.
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We are all aware of it but it's nothing we refine,
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And progress is a debt we all must pay.
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Its convenience we all cherish, its pollution we disdain
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And the cutting edge is dulling,
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Too many folks to plow through.
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Just keep your fucking distance
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And it can't include you.
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It's
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Progress, 'til there's nothing left to gain, it's
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Progress, it's a message that we send.
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And progress is a debt we all must pay.
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Progress
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Bad Religion |