Words by Bob Hartman. Based on James 1: 6-8. . Shadows of a different kind. Come and cloud my mind. And make me wonder. Am I still in touch with You?.
You're in my way. You cross the line. You're in my face. You're on my case, you really waste my time. . Don't like your style. Don't like your sound. You talk too much.
I can't do right when all I want to do is wrong. My conscience sounds alarm like the waning of a Chinese gong. I know about the punishment, I know about the law.
There it stands way up high. A million bodies piled to the sky. Arms and legs, feet and hands. Impossible to understand. . Countless heads, ears and eyes.
Somebody better shake you. Somebody better turn your head around. I'm scratching like a wild cat. I'm spitting fire on the ground. . You got my venom running thru ya.
Looks like all your laws are broken, all your lines are down. And all your officers are shook up babbling little clowns. Looks like all your power's gone, it's sprayed upon the wall.
When I look back at my time at the track. And I played, and I played, and I played, and I was. Shooting the craps at the back of Fat Jack's. Come on, fade me, Jake.
I'm not a Buddha boy. I'm not a Muslim man. I'm not a Christian or a Jew. . I'm not a Mormon freak. I'm not a Catholic geek. And I'm nothing at all like you.
Scarlet wants to hold me, wearing just a red-veiled hat. Sheba's in the shadows waiting for her turn at bat. In the parlour where the lights are low. A vulture sister act, I watch their show.
Welcome boy. Welcome girl. Step into a world. Where the city never sleeps. The music rocks. And the beat never stops. Let the bass line kick your feet.