I cry mercy for the whores and the sluggards
I cry mercy for the preachers to paupers
Precious mercy for the tie-wearing Senate
For all these bill and pills and sermons and these personal agendas
I cry mercy, Lord
Mercy Lord over me
I cry mercy in the darkest cells of our prisons
I cry mercy for the king atop his kingdom
Sweet flowing mercy for the praying or sleeping mothers
For all these thrills and frills and protesting yells and these calculated consumers
I cry mercy, Lord
Mercy Lord over me
If we all crash and burn, and we are all found out
If my secret wound's exposed, will You come and snuff me out
Hold onto me; I'm strained against the reigns
Hold onto me; Don't let this darkness take my name
Don't let it, Lord
Hold onto me; mothers hide your daughters
Hold onto me; My boy don't become your father
Don't let him, Lord
