1994 4 track demo:
Bob: I love this tune... I don't know why. I've never been overly pleased with my vocal abilities, and this tune, perhaps, is best suited for my 'bull moose trapped in a hydraulic press' voice. A simple riff... mine, I think, and Ben's words, tweaked a little to fit the rhythm. 'Rot and anger...' it's just such an image, or concept, or circumstance, however you want to look at it, I've always loved the turn of phrase Ben achieved here. Ben and Bas say I have this 'epic' style of writing lyrics that they like, but 'The Way' is my idea of epic; something that spans thousands of years and/or miles.
Ben: The lyrics for The Way are about the evils of organised religion, something I feel very strongly about. Too often, people fall victim to the dogmas or elitism of their chosen religion; they preach tolerence on the one hand, while blowing up some kid on the other. Organised religion is a kind of primitivism that has outlived its usefulness. It seems that as long as there are things inexplicable in our universe, people will revert to some kind of primitivism on one level or another.
Bob: Yeah, religion is the root of all evil. Not spiritualism, but organized 'pay your tithe so the pope can live in splendour, send me eight million dollars or god will call me home' religion. I agree with Ben: once we lived in huts and caves and didn't know a damn thing about static electricity, so we created a thunder and lightning god in our own image, to go on the shelf with the rain god and the ocean god and the eric-the-half-a-bee god. We don't need gods anymore. We understand most of what goes on around us, and what we don't yet understand, we're rational enough to try and puzzle out, without using anyone for kindling, or nailing anybody to a tree.
An angry sky blows the cold rain in your eyes,
The empty rooms collapse in rot and anger.
A new disease, a new religion, burns.
A war of words is now a war of weapons,
As many have learned before, conquest brings total defeat.
A new disease, a new religion, burns.
Now, once united, they slit each others' throats,
They try to murder the killers, but the killers are us.
A new religion, another bloody page turns.
Quiet Bit
Play with Ben's head
Bellow 'til Finish