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