Seven Seconds Late (Doing What You've Done)
Written April 4, 2004

I'm not a famous artist. But, if I was, I'd be feeling pretty violated these days, with all the hubbub over what words you can or can't say, and what acts you can or can't do. I'd hate to think that a single word from my mouth, or one strategically placed wardrobe malfunction, could blackball me for life. It's time to put an end to all the censorship and supposed "moral cleansing" that's being forced upon us. It's time to own up to the fact that, no matter how much we isolate them, our children are going to learn swear words, see members of the opposite sex nude, and watch hundreds of people die on television. The longer we allow the suppression of free speech, the longer we suffocate ourselves as free-thinking individuals. If the world ever does become the set of '7th Heaven' (as the proponents of the Great Silencing would have it), I'll be sitting up in an old oak tree, smoking a cigarette and jacking my stack to a glossy Jessica Biel 8x10, screaming at the poor, petrified souls below to get the fuck out of my drop zone.

You, the advocates of the verbal embargo
You, who won’t be satisfied until we’re all muted
Parade your troubled children as a product of our credo
Outlaw anyone who’d have the gall to disprove it

But we have the facts, and the facts say you’re all frantic
Desperate for excuses to deflect all the blame
Preaching your morals, but you’ve twisted the semantics
Nervous whispers echoed on the tape delay

Freedom becomes folklore
The narrative controlled
Worthless and predictable
But the airtime still gets sold
The constitution is non-verbatim
Because speech just isn’t free
So when I gag your mouth and tell you it’s decreed
I’m just doing what you've done to me

You, the spotless family, the moral minority
You, the ones who’ve never had to beg forgiveness
The holier than thou routine is boring me
If God hates imperfection, everybody’s on his shit list

We have the facts, and the facts say you’re all liars
Peddling integrity to cover up your sins
You’re drowning yourself in spite of the fire
The water’s getting hotter, everybody jump in

Acceptance becomes folklore
We’re all heathens in your eyes
So blasphemous, so evil
We’ll never be glorified
The bible is non-verbatim
Because we don’t feel esteemed
So when I denounce you and curse the air you breathe
I’m just doing what you’ve done to me