from Worn to the Weft

Well an ordinary man
was walking down the road
When he fell into the hands
of a desperate clan
They stripped him of his things
right down to his clothes
Smashed his face with lead
and left him for dead

Preacher sees the man
sees the blood in the sand
From the corner of his eye
as he passes right by
And the servant of the state
does the same as the priest
He pretends not to see
a man struggling to breathe

What kind neighbors are these?
What kind of man drops
the hand of the dying
For a handshake
with heartache and greed?