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Powderfinger - Walking Stick

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Spoon fed from a dirty plate

A diet designed only to agitate

A veil of pride and gospel truth

To cover the hidden fist that he used



And i won't say a word

You've sewn me in my skin

Hypocrite walking stick man

Silent grin



And the sunken heel kinda slows me down



Dogs and children lift their legs

To tattoo a teenage mother's breast

Widows of precocious days

Wear slogans resurrected late

Parables for wooden ears

Steer vehicles of wisdom



And i won't say a word

You've sewn me in my skin

Hypocrite walking stick man

Silent grin



And the sunken heel lights my way home



And i won't say a word

You've sewn me in my skin

Hypocrite walking stick man

Silent grave