Wordmule

Your world is in flames there ain't even a name
 For the feelings you feel as you watch it all burn.
 There's a girl in the distance, she's calling your name,
 But the name that she's calling is not your name, she calls:
 THE WORD-MULE! THE WORD-MULE! THE WORD-MULE!
 but he's plowing the field...
 THE WORD-MULE! THE WORD-MULE! THE WORD-MULE!
 But he's plowing the field...
 And you can't walk on that water, I know 'cause I tried.
 It's our spider web-thinking, it's just too heavy with holes.
 And our thoughts they are made up of red Georgia clay,
 we think we know everything, but man we don't know:
 THE WORD-MULE! THE WORD-MULE! THE WORD-MULE!
 but he's plowing the field...
 THE WORD-MULE! THE WORD-MULE! THE WORD-MULE!
 but he's plowing the field... here come THE WORD-MULE!
 My friends,
 look out for hustlers for preachers for sheisters,
 them silver-tongued saints who pretend to do good,
 'cause they? re geeks biting chicken-heads off with their witty rejoinders they ain't nothing but greasy fast food for:
 THE WORD-MULE! THE WORD-MULE! THE WORD-MULE!
 but he's plowing the field...
 THE WORD-MULE! THE WORD-MULE! THE WORD-MULE!
 but he's plowing the field...