Panacea 歌词

We can cure anything Take your fears away We will end your suffering Remove your pain Don't believe the things you've heard Ignore all that you read The devil tried to bring us down Accusing us of greed Come all you inequates Come all you poor souls Come all life's unfortunates From out your holes You'll love your dread of dying Smash the barriers you've built And you will give us 10% We'll give you guilt And as your problems melt away You'll be shooting from the hip You'll love your grip You'll lose your fear of flying You'll lose your grip Come all you inequates Come all you poor souls Come all life's unfortunates From out your holes Come all you inequates come all you poor souls Come all life's unfortunates From out your holes