Testo No Freedom

Dressed to kill, and drinking all aloneWaiting for some lizard to take you homeAnother wham-bam rendezvousThe script is moldy but the lines are tried and trueBut there's no freedomNo real freedomThere is no freedom in sinConscience screaming, but its Saturday nightDig deep for anything to make the wrong feel rightMorning comes, your head is split in twoI know your bleeding; I've crawled that same path tooThe swords are rattling, and the end is in sightIts now or never if you want to make things rightThe future's shaky, but the facts are quite clearThe King is coming, and He's almost here