We pierced the side of the idol
  With the sharpened neck of an electric guitar
  Bottled the water from the wound
  Holy relic- the essence of star
  But what does she care, it's just another blank stare
  To a world that loves and hates you on a dare
  Where the orphans ask the widows the meaning of 'fair'
  So let this be a drink to quench this uncontrollable thirst
  Tie the belt a notch tighter around anxious hearts set to burst
  And when this once at least gilded cage has been
  Stripped bare of flesh cold and numb
  What have you done, Mark David Chapman?
    Let all the desperate hours of boredom
  Lead you to some meaning of truth
  Bumps and bruises and notebooks for heaven's jury as proof
  The emotions were shrink wrapped, sold as scraps
  Choose any scene from the vending machine
  Somewhere lost in the night, a satellite transmitted dream
  Industrial revolutions of the soul interchangeable hearts it's manufacturing
  If we wear out each other it's o.k., just go buy another
  So let this be a drink to calm the shaking hands that you've found
  Let this be release, forever unwound.