Tekster: Bad Religion. All Ages. Anesthesia.

Everybody is talking about the girl
Who went and killed the delivery man
But she looks so kind and gentle
It just doesn't stand to reason

I saw her right there just the other night
As stately as a slot machine
But when she looked my way something mad
As hell came over me

Anesthesia, Mona Lisa, I've got a little gun here comes oblivion
I never loved you, how did you find me?
The cops will never prove complicity now, Anna
(One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight)
All good children go to heaven

I remember your face that August night
When we lied about the beautiful time to come
And that crazy old man who came much to late
And caused a chain reaction

I've been hanging out there for eleven long years
Like a church mouse wondering where the cat has gone
And looking at you now
Is driving me to distraction

Anesthesia, Mona Lisa, I've got a little gun here comes oblivion
I never loved you, how did you find me?
The cops will never prove complicity now, Anna
(One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight)
All good children go to heaven