Spoon fed from a dirty plate
A diet designed only to agitate
A veil of pride and gospel truth
To cover the hidden fist that he used And I won't say a word
You've sewn me in my skin
Hypocrite walking stick man
Silent grave And the sunken heel kinda slows me down Dogs and children lift their legs
To tattoo a teenage mother's breasts
Widows of precocious days
Wear slogans resurrected late Parables for wooden ears
Steer vehicles of wisdom
All the wisdom And I won't say a word
You've sewn me in my skin
Hypocrite walking stick man
Silent grave And the sunken heel kinda lights my way And I won't say a word
You've sewn me in my skin
Hypocrite walking stick man
Silent grave
