The First Stone

June 19, 2009

I see you clap your hands

Hold them high

Hold them high into your holy sky

Shout aloud those chants

Tossing phrases in the air

Allow them to fly

Painfully visible to every eye

You boast about your white washed tombs

Bold, fluorescent lights amidst the gloom

You boast about your white washed tombs

But you still look like a sinner to me

I see you bite the apple

Shiny wax apple

It stains your chiseled teeth

Don't mind the worm

Watch it squirm over your dry lips

Caked with lies you purchased for half price

Bouncing onto others like thirsty lice

You boast about your white washed tombs

Bold, fluorescent lights amidst the gloom

You boast about your white washed tombs

But you still look like a sinner to me

Point the finger up your nose

Write me out on your list for inspection

Trick me into smiling for the statue

Been smiling at the world since its conception

You boast about your white washed tombs

Sitting in the middle of the garden, it looms

You boast about your white washed tombs

Let he who has no sin cast the first stone