The Crimes of Man

He was an extraordinary boy, honest and hardworking,
A beautiful, blue-eyed boy, his mother’s pride and joy.
And then he grew into a man, made a difference in this great land,
Wait a minute, that’s not true; this, he never had a chance to do,
He was torn from his mother’s belly, never drew his first breath.
His life would never begin, just so she could blot out her sin.

Gotta’ little blood on the hands-
Proof of the crimes of man.
Gotta’ little blood on the hands-
Can’t say it wasn’t planned.

Once when I was a selfish fool, I knew this boy at my high school,
Jerry, not exactly ordinary; a little strange and unusual,
A little too weak and scrawny, a little too pale and sickly.
He didn’t have any friends, he was only mocked and laughed at.
Then one time on the bus home, we started a chant, saying;
“Jerry is a fag, Jerry is a fag!” and he started to cry, but
We only laughed all the more as he ran from that school bus door.
Early the next morning, Jerry’s father looked out the window,
Saw his son hanging from a tree, hung with the noose of mockery.

Gotta’ little blood on the hands-
Guilty of the crimes of man.
Gotta’ little blood on the hands-
It’s the same all over the land.

Why is all mankind infected with the cruels?
Why are we so blind? Why are we such fools?
Why can’t we love with the love of Jesus Christ?
These are the crimes of man, we are all guilty of them,
Condemned by an eternal Judge. If only we could clean the smudge,
And wash our hands of this stain, it would be an incredible thing.

Gotta’ little blood on your hands-
Are you guilty of the crimes of man?