Tradition

Oh doctor can your machine send me to that nebula?
I think not
Can this euthanasia send me to Fantasia?
Oh doctor, guess what
You seem to have a condition in which you don't believe
That which is defined by our seventh sense
You seem to have addressed the fact that you are living
On a false pretense
But you see, I have this tradition:
To, brown or green, nice or mean
Thick or thin, gold or tin
Let faith light my fuse in advance
There are no atheists in a fox hole
Oh no, give it a chance
Give it a chance

So tell me, does your engine sputter
Every time you meet a traffic cop
Does it run in circles? You should go to your daddy
You know he'll make it stop
I think you walk like the serpent
When you're offered chocolate and you choose vanilla
What you do is worse than cussing, fighting, lust
Etcetera
Why don't you follow tradition?
And, brown or green, nice or mean
Thick or thin, gold or tin
Let faith light your fuse in advance
There are no atheists in a fox hole
Oh no, give it a chance
Give it a chance

The ace of spades, black and cold
Count your cards, you must fold
You should've chosen another deck
There are no atheists in a fox hole, oh no
Her boyfriend must meet certain criteria
I think your problem is out of her hands
She's on the verge of a bad kind of hysteria
So give it a chance

Oh doctor can your machine send me to that nebula?
I think not
Can this euthanasia send me to Fantasia?
Oh doctor, guess what
I'm gonna: brown or green, nice or mean
Thick or thin, gold or tin
Let faith light my fuse in advance
There are no atheists in a fox hole
I'm gonna: brown or green, nice or mean
Thick or thin, gold or tin
Let faith light my fuse in advance
There are no atheists in a fox hole
Oh no, give it a chance
Give it a chance
Give it a chance
Give it a chance



Credits
Writer(s): Charlie Bookout
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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