For Rock And Jazz Fusion Stoned (Boyd)

I made myself a believer

Holding a gun and a cross in my hand

He likes to elevate the pain inside

And burn my soul in silence



A vexed amount of loneliness

Confounding choices, the never end

Filling the holes before I hit the ground

One angel falls and fades into longing



For rock and jazz fusion stoned

I sold my morbid soul the devil

The psychedelia burns in my blood

An endless lust for desire



So I take a ride to the nearest mountain

Pulling the moon as I dance through the fire

World religion is only for fools

And a fortune god full of complements



Heavenade the vain inside

Heavenade the vain inside

Heavenade the vain inside

Heavenade... Heavenade...