Psalms

Poor boy he knows he's alive, he's afraid to learn
He don't want to get where he's going cos he thinks he's gonna burn
He can't handle being born in the middle of a big black line
No matter where he looks, to him it's just either side
Close your eyes when you feel you're going under
Close your eyes; you can make the shore this time
Close your eyes; you can make it through the wild
You can make it through the wild
Poor boy he knows in this life he'll get hunted down
He don't want to make the transition into meat that feeds the ground
He can't hack it when his mind paints a picture from an evil eye
You can't wash the canvas now cos it's full of dye