"Stranger Than Fiction" by Bad Religion A febrile shocking violent smack, and the children are hoping for a heart attack. Tonight, the windows are watching the streets all conspire, and the lamppost can't stop crying. If I could fly high above the world, would I see a bunch of living dots spell the word stupidity? Or would I see hungry lover homicides? Loving brother suicides? And olly olly oxen frees who pick a side and hide? The world is scratching at my door. My morning paper's got the scores. The human interest stories. And the obituary. Oh, yeah! Cockroach naps, rattling traps. How many devils can you fit upon a match head? Caringosity killed the Kerouac cat! Sometimes, truth is stranger than fiction. In my alley 'round the corner, there's a wino with feathered shoulders. And a spirit giving head for crack, he'll never want it back. There's a little kid and his family eating crackers like Thanksgiving. And a pack of wild desperadoes scornful of living. The world is scratching at my door. My morning paper has the scores. The human interest stories. And the obituary. Oh, yeah! Cradle for a cat! Wolfe looks back! How many angels can you fit upon a match? I wanna know why Hemingway cracked! Sometimes, truth is stranger than fiction. Life is the crummiest book I ever read. There isn't a hook. Just a lot of cheap shots, pictures to shock. And characters an amateur would never dream up. Sometimes, truth is stranger than fiction!
