No one mourns the wicked.

The wicked can go to hell.

But no one asks the wicked

If there is more to tell.

No smiles for the wicked.

No pity for the damned.

For mercy is above them

And pity beneath us.

The lost are labeled scoundrels.

The hungry christened thieves.

And everywhere we find them

We blame their wicked deeds.

No one mourns the wicked.

The poor misunderstood.

No mercy for the wretched.

So why should they show it to you?