Pecking Order - Tourniquet

Slight of hand, slight of mind

Slam the door, leave the key inside

With a quick and knowing stare

Like a contest at the fair

You’re the winner, you’re the loser

You’re the chosen, I’m the chooser

Too fat, too poor, too black, too pure

Too white, too foreign, too smart, too boring

Hen-pecked hypocrite, myself included

Fails to see, my thoughts diluted

With our judgement, and mind polluted

Comes prevention, from seeing who God created

Politics of the mind, feeds the ego of the blind

Who made you the judge of me

Turn away, just let me be

The notion that we’re better than them

The ultimate delusional gem

The notion that we’re better than them

The ultimate delusional gem

Too fat, too poor, too black, too pure

Too white, too foreign, too smart, too boring

Too fat, too poor, too black, too pure

Too white, too foreign, too smart, too boring

Ninety-three million miles

From the earth, the granite boils

Half the heat, half the burn

Scorches those who never learn

Look to Him and you will see

The only judge for you and me

Grace and mercy from His throne

Imparts to those He calls His own

Grace and mercy from His throne

Imparts to those He calls His own