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 mothers 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