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