Not a part of the machine
Big brother, big idea, 9-0, 16
Neubauten tee, plaid flannel laden adolescent art kid
Tony Hawk hair, Skinny Puppy denim
And a record player vomiting Alien Sex Fiend
Peel sessions in a christian home for field testing
It's real youth in the palm of your hand
When your mom thinks satan is involved in a band
We were buried in the village voice
Checking who was playing where
Pulled his head up out the paper, pushing out a single tear
Five words, like a beacon of light in the mist
"Ministry live at the Ritz"
It was Christ has risen to Chris
3 loaves, 2 fish
Miracle of mechanized loops on 2-inch
Coming to a theatre he would be there in the flesh
Mom didn't say no, but she didn't say yes
Copped tickets, the plot thickens
Countdown to ultimate concert experience
Mom is still worrying
"Why are they called Ministry? Are they a cult?"
Maybe she could properly investigate
Bought a mag with an Al Jourgensen interview
Read a couple sentences, glanced at a pic or two or three
That's all, no fair trial
Simply: "You will not be going to the show and that's final!"
What occurred next were the top of the lungs of a son who unjustly had lost what he'd loved
In a moment that would transcend anger to high art
Said: "THIS IS SOMETHING I AM WILLING TO DIE FOR"
Can you even imagine a death in the fam from industrial fandom?
Anyway, no body count no concert and Chris kicked rocks in his mismatched converse