You enrolled me in your system The day that I was born.
Cause good little boys they go to school And do their homework.
You taught me who to love.
You taught me who to hate.
You taught me what to do.
You taught me how to think.
You educate and legislate you govern and control.
I’m not a product of your system and I will not be ignored.

I’m breaking out—out of the box you put me in.
I’m shaking loose—of all of the chains that held me down.
I’m free to live—the life that I want to.
I’m free to be—whatever the hell I want to be.

For a tithe and good behavior and once-a-week attendance,
You’re telling me I can have your pale white plastic Jesus.
You tell me what is right.
You tell me what is wrong.
You tell me who is saved.
You tell me who is damned.
You articulate, manipulate all in the name of God,
but no one’s buying what you’re selling; you can’t put a price on grace.