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photo by Abu Ghraib prison guard

The Inquisition
words and music copyright DK Bridger 2008

These rooms in San Quentin
Got nothing but Jesus in them.
Iím talking about prisoners.
Talking about visitors.
Talking to my inquisitors.
Iím singing like a bird on the ground.

On my knees. See my prayers.
Spill my guts, no secrets there.
I heard Him speaking to conspirators.
I heard Him pleading with his tormentors.
I've seen Him bleeding, Heís just a man
Dyng for the blood on your hands.

For His sake, you get crazy.
In His name, you can be so cruel.
Iím gonna take to whatever might sway me.
So give me a break. My bones all break.

Truth walks on water.
Learn to swim a little bit, Father.
Never climb a mountain in His life
Never taste freedom. Thatís what itís like.
If you want to hear a sad sad song,
Listen to the dirt on these grounds.

Innocents scream till
Punishment has no meaning.
No one sees the Casualty.
Turn your head ignore the Prophesy.
You profit. You believe
In all these absurdities.
You canít see the dirt for the ground.

These walls go on forever,
Dividing pain from guilty pleasures.
No one sees either side,
Hidden away, forsaken pride.
Countless dead. No one measures
Buried bodies like stolen treasures
Under the dirt on these grounds.

Gimme me a break, theyíre just crazy.
Give them a break, they donít know what they do.
Give them a break, it wonít even phase me.
All my bones break. Just give them a break.

These rooms in San Quentin
Got nothing but Jesus in them.
Iím talking about prisoners.
Iím talking about the Visitor.
Iím talking to my inquisitors,
Singing from the dirt on the ground.

                                                                           ~ DK Bridger

All words and music Copyright DK Bridger 2008. No image or song materials may be copied, broadcast, published, re-written, re-edited, or used in any way outside of this site without consent of DK Bridger. Use of this web site signifies agreement to terms of use.