As surely as the rich who will not give.
Then my pretence of holiness is binned
With those who're given life but do not live.
A bully stops a young boy on the path
She knocks his books out of his tiny hands
Then she and her two friends begin to laugh
And push the little boy from where he stands.
I stop my bike and look back, then they go.
The boy bends down and gets his dusty books
There's things I'd like to say to him to show
That life is often easier than it looks.
I see a poor man suffering and pass by,
The devil drips delusion in my eye.
I see a poor man suffering and pass by,
The devil drips delusion in my eye.
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