Mad Sons
Three boys in clean, white robes
Hand out books as they march down the road
They sing and they shout
"Hey! We're Abraham's sons and our book says we're the chosen ones!"
They stone those who refuse each book
With no remorse for each life they took
For their books they are ready to kill
Dropping bodies is their father's will
Mad Sons of Abraham
From their lofty tower of blocks
Throw stones at everyone
God help me run from the falling rocks
Those who are lucky managed to flee
Leaving the boys to stop and see
That each one's book is not like his brother's
They have no choice now but to stone each other
Mad Sons of Abraham
From their lofty tower of blocks
Throw stones at everyone
God help me run from the falling rocks
Jesse hacks at women's breasts
His book told him to
Isaac smashes babies heads
His book told him to
Ishmael kills infidels
His book told him to
They won't be done until the World is dead
Their books told them too
Mad Sons of Abraham
From their lofty tower of blocks
Throw stones at everyone
God help me run from the falling rocks
Mad Sons of Abraham
From their lofty tower of blocks
Throw stones at everyone
God help me run from the falling rocks
Hand out books as they march down the road
They sing and they shout
"Hey! We're Abraham's sons and our book says we're the chosen ones!"
They stone those who refuse each book
With no remorse for each life they took
For their books they are ready to kill
Dropping bodies is their father's will
Mad Sons of Abraham
From their lofty tower of blocks
Throw stones at everyone
God help me run from the falling rocks
Those who are lucky managed to flee
Leaving the boys to stop and see
That each one's book is not like his brother's
They have no choice now but to stone each other
Mad Sons of Abraham
From their lofty tower of blocks
Throw stones at everyone
God help me run from the falling rocks
Jesse hacks at women's breasts
His book told him to
Isaac smashes babies heads
His book told him to
Ishmael kills infidels
His book told him to
They won't be done until the World is dead
Their books told them too
Mad Sons of Abraham
From their lofty tower of blocks
Throw stones at everyone
God help me run from the falling rocks
Mad Sons of Abraham
From their lofty tower of blocks
Throw stones at everyone
God help me run from the falling rocks
Credits
Writer(s): Azi Crawford
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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