Bury the Hatchet

Well, place your justice in my palm And then I'll make a fist And punch your grimaced face Until every knuckle breaks And bleeds In resistance to my sidewalk painting A mangled body Twitching and regaining consciousness and closure Attempting composure before a bullet in the mouth Answers the questions of exposure And God of Sunday school facades And pay cheques to validate the time I served abroad We will say it all means nothing If I forget why I'm here To serve and protect my fist over fist Mind under matter career That's why this sounds kind of funny When he falls to his knees With his hand on his throat while he begs you to please Spare his life Falls to his knees (When he falls to his knees) Falls to his knees (With his hand on his throat while he begs you to please) Oh, all of this ask for change Change While I explain the hardest of bodies dulls the softest of knives When I hold up his head and carve X's in his eyes When I hold up his head and carve X's in his eyes And carve X's in his eyes I swear I have compassion I've just been trained to disregard the prisoner's life Because I am the prison guard (oh, yeah!) I swear I have compassion I've just been trained to disregard the prisoner's life Because I am the prison guard Ooh!