These are my hands and when*
I fold them then I can talk
To my creator now
I feel his watch over me
I drink their alligator oil
I will swallow that
No need to question when
I've joined in their chorus now
Sort through the things you wrote
The fiction instead of fact
It's all been planned ahead now
No use in changing that
Made it my nature to think
Am I at fault when I
See through their holy wall
Is that still all on me now
On me, on me