You're so out of it

You can't give a speech



You're so wasted

Your brain cell won't think



Your eyes are shocking pink

Your lips are ruby red



Wouldn't it be better

If we were peanut butter

on a moldy piece of bread



Knowing that the angels will soon

Let loose the winds of dread



Die wicked generation

Uttered an angel from the sky

Die wicked generation

For this is the close of your Game of Destruction



You vote for a president

That decides full of flaws



Anti-Christ government

That's the way it's gonna be



You must fight for your rights

Against a polititian most of all

When they won't listen



Happy birthyear Judgement day

Death has won the race

So let us all embrace



Die wicked generation

Uttered an angel from the sky

Die wicked generation

For this is the close of your Game of Destruction



Game of destruction, yeah yeah !...