from Worn to the Weft

No I will not deliver this letter
To the cur whose breath I hate
His body is hardly any better
And he relies on rotten faith

But he comes off so charming and able
He’s a carcass if you ask me
Lord even my niece thinks he’s something
But I am still uncertain

Delivery from evil
For the solitary people
Saviors from ourselves
Sing a song of peace
For every bird and bee
There ain’t anybody else

Yes I flatly refuse
to take part in your funeral methods
I will not spend my life
Plucking words from the mouth of a grave

And I don’t see the use
In every report being perfect
I will not bide my time
Watching only the corrupt remain

But you can be sure that it’s true love
The youth will retrieve from the valleys
What the hideous and decent
Defy, deplore, and defame

We are captives of a furious nation
We are captives by any other name

Delivery from evil
For the solitary people
Saviors from ourselves
Sing a song of peace
For every bird and bee
There ain’t anybody else