Songtext von Sicks And Stones

People can you feel it There's something in the air Our brotherhood is dying With no more love to spare It ain't right But it's alright this time One more time So come one, come all To the judgement ball Lay down your cross And take up your sticks and stones Year your sticks and stones Treat me like you won Then you busy my bones With your sticks and stones Kill the junkyard prophets The law is in our hands Hypocrisy has poisoned The blood of father's lamb It ain't right But it's alright this time God's a friend of mine Young or old We all fit the mold Everybody take up your sticks and stones Yeah, your sticks and stones Treat me like you won Then you busy my bones With your sticks and stones Young or old We all fit the mold Come one, come all To the judgement ball Everybody take up your sticks and stones