Our father Which art on Wall Street Honored be thy buck Thy kingdom came This be thy year From sea to shining sea
Thou givest me false pride Funked down by the riverside From every head and ass, may dollars flow Give us this pay Our daily bread Forgive us our goofs As we rob from each other
He maketh me to sell dope to small children For thou art evil And we adore thee Thy destruction and thy power They comfort me My Cadillac and my pinky ring They restoreth me in thee Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of poverty I must feel their envy For I am loaded, high and all those other goodies That go along with the good god big buck
To your horse A ? grows there Ahead in time, the unexpected soul-searching beam of the strobe But now, the stairway looms And as I rise The cries of kittens, gray, make way For there, now near Here now, gone, alone I feel my wrist, it flicks the switch No lights reveal the room or me She sees, then panics, grabs a light I scream, silent comforts that are not heard I panic, for I have not said a word Hysteria hold the room in sway I run, I back away, to hide From what? From fear? The truth, the light? Is truth the light?
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Copy to Clipboard: Our father Which art on Wall Street Honored be thy buck Thy kingdom came This be thy year From sea to shining sea
Thou givest me false pride Funked down by the riverside From every head and ass, may dollars flow Give us this pay Our daily bread Forgive us our goofs As we rob from each other
He maketh me to sell dope to small children For thou art evil And we adore thee Thy destruction and thy power They comfort me My Cadillac and my pinky ring They restoreth me in thee Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of poverty I must feel their envy For I am loaded, high and all those other goodies That go along with the good god big buck
To your horse A ? grows there Ahead in time, the unexpected soul-searching beam of the strobe But now, the stairway looms And as I rise The cries of kittens, gray, make way For there, now near Here now, gone, alone I feel my wrist, it flicks the switch No lights reveal the room or me She sees, then panics, grabs a light I scream, silent comforts that are not heard I panic, for I have not said a word Hysteria hold the room in sway I run, I back away, to hide From what? From fear? The truth, the light? Is truth the light?
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