With extreme prejudice lyrics

Some people make it a habit of not working on the sabbath,

waking up the next morning to pray.

And whether it be a life revision or a color television,

thanking Jesus they'll receive it one day.

Some people pull their optimism over their eyes

just pretending that they know what to do,

and I know I'm slightly rusty, girl, you're gonna have to trust me.

Keep a realistic point of view.

Well, scarcely can I blame them 'cause it's hard enough to name them

but you see them everyday on TV.

So take a walk with me and understand whose in command

and let it pan the left and the right, sufficient tonight,

omniscient I might, keep you in my sight.

Don't let yourself slip,

'cause tossing in the dice starts with losing your grip.

So forsake your only baby, maybe

you can get away before the sun begins to pick up the dew.

Woman, keep it in your vision it's a hard enough decision.

Keep a realistic point of view.

If you're leaving my sight,

you had better open your eyes

and take my hand by the end of the night.

If I should ever lay you down, lay you down.

It's as simple as at monasteries, clasping your hands,

living life a loading level prior to the promise land.

So my man, stop the waiting and debating "what's next?".

Perplexed and, yes, the entire situations a mess,

so progress, finesse, final insinuation what's left,

and the best I guess I missed, wait, I lift it,

the tide that drifts it may not fix it,

for fear of fierce fire fury fights for the wicks, kid.

Triple six did the trick to shatter the brain

and sustain the painful knowledge that the future will bring,

Yeah, but (you know?) I say fuck it, do what though wilt.

not opposed to all the choices that Iscariot felt.

Consider this a warning, you'll envision by the morning

but it's better just to think it through.

With your pupils dilated and your mind on what I stated,

keep a realistic point of view.

Poor Jesus, Mother Mary,

heaven's closed today.

Saint Peter, Saint Peter,

turn my soul away

Mother Mary, Poor Jesus,

let us try again.

Holy Father, Spirit Within,

send another son to us to die for our sin.

Poor Jesus, Mother Mary,

heaven's closed today.

Saint Peter, Saint Peter,

turn my soul away

Mother Mary, Poor Jesus,

let us try again.

Holy Father, Spirit Within,

send another son to us to die for our sin.

• Artist:Rusty Cage
• Album:Blues, Gospels and Whathaveyous