a sullen figure walks along a dusty rouad

his life was holy and he couldn't bear the load

he left his people and a simple life behind

he raised his torso and he looked into the sky

shouting his questions

looking for directions

"what do i do now?"

now a confused schoolgirl stares at the t.v. tray

the stresses of maturing compound every day

she glances up to see her favorite video

and gets ideas from madonna's nasty clothes

in need of affection

she craves a direction

her heroes offer her

everyone is looking for something

and they assume somebody else knows what it is

no one can live with the decisions of their own it seems

so the look to someone else

to tell'em what to be

tell'em what to wear

tell'em what to say

tell'em how to act and think and compel others compulsively

until the world is all like them

a righteous student came and asked me to reflect

he judged my lifestyle was politically incorrect

i don't believe i self important folks who preach

no bad religion song can make your life complete

prepare for rejection

you'll get no direction from me

you'll get no direction from me