Report to the Sun (Live)

I stood by and watched the peasants all pack into the court like sardines in a can
All eager to see Darrow struck dead by the wrath of the lord
And the temperature in the courtroom remains one hundred degrees
The women are cute and quite charming indeed
As for the men, I won't say a word

Every last scoundrel in sight's a Christian
Even including the Dayton town Jew
I can see what Judea was like back in 30 AD
No wonder they bumped off the son of Joseph

Bryan, that moth-eaten god just sits catching flies and biding his time
That man is as soaked in the ways of the lord
As most of his peers have been in booze
There, asleep in his chair, this tin-pot pope of the coca-cola belt
Has sat for three days in a fundamentalist haze
The incarnate hope of the wild primate horde

But soon as he hits the streets, he lights like a lamp
The anthropoid rabble all reach for his touch
They throw him great feasts: he roars, then he eats
He's the only man who can strut sitting down

As for Raulston, the judge, he has them read prayers before court begins
He read the good book every night as a child
He's known on the bench as part-judge, and part-priest

Ever since I've arrived, this town has been like a sideshow at night
And I'm proud to say in the past three days
I've been converted to fundamentalism
Three times