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In the hand of God there's a cattle prod |
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That keeps shocking us along |
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'Til we're flung from roofs without parachutes |
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To fill the patches on his lawn |
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There's an iron gate where patrolmen wait |
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To keep the chosen people safe |
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From the infidels and their terror cells |
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Rebels blessed with God's good grace |
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There's a shining half jewel that's shattered glass |
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Hemmed in with barbed wire |
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You can skin your feet but you can't climb free |
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Oh hallelujah, hot and hard |
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All your fox-hole prayers full of fear you share |
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With a bored and distant son |
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While you held your will, killing time until |
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Answers came from anyone |
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You curse their Lord for all he ignored |
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In his flawed and vengeful plan |
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Cut yourself some slack against a deck so stacked |
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I mean come on now, you're just one man |
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Maybe after all when your conscience calls |
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You might threw the missing link |
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And all that white hot air you sprayed around out there |
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Might have led to more than you think |
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So when you breathe, breathe deep, breathe in easily |
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Like you might never breathe again |
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Tell yourself the truth so all that work you do |
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Won't be worthless in the end |
