I made myself a believer
Holding a gun and a cross in my hand
He likes to elevate the pain inside
And burn my soul in silence

A vexed amount of loneliness
Confounding choices, the never end
Filling the holes before I hit the ground
One angel falls and fades into longing

For rock and jazz fusion stoned
I sold my morbid soul the devil
The psychedelia burns in my blood
An endless lust for desire

So I take a ride to the nearest mountain
Pulling the moon as I dance through the fire
World religion is only for fools
And a fortune god full of complements

Heavenade the vain inside
Heavenade the vain inside
Heavenade the vain inside
Heavenade… Heavenade…

Lyrics submitted by Model Fighter

For Rock And Jazz Fusion Stoned (Boyd) song meanings
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