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Lift high, your brazen calf |
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Praise him, for we are helpless |
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Every night you serve two masters, |
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Your hands are blistered |
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How long till we see you for what you really are? |
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Remove the mask |
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Your face is dirty |
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No prayers are ever gonna save you |
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You're on your own now |
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Why did you turn on us when we needed you the most? |
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You bound our outstretched hands and severed them at joint |
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So how are we to forgive and forget when I can taste the lust on your breath |
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You're pathetic and it makes me sick |
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Sick to my stomach, to be in love with a cancer |
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Every night you'd sell us out for the minute of sanity |
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To fly high above the trees |
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Yet you never made it off the ground |
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You make me sick |
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Get off your knees |
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That look is getting old, even for you |
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I refuse to be your crutch anymore. |
