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Hypocrite Stew
(October 9,1948 / Dayton, Tennessee)

Hypocrite Stew

I can’t say forgive them ‘cause, Father, they know what they do.
I picture them floating around in hypocrite stew.
They won’t take a life raft though you’ve thrown ‘em out more than two.
I can’t say forgive them ‘cause, Father, they know what they do.

They’re always so busy completing their last ‘second mile.’
You wonder how running so hard, they’d still have a smile.
They’ll walk in your moccasins building their house on the sand,
And when things go wrong, and they will, they pull pack their hand.

They’re back-patting, hand-shaking people that you’re glad to see
Unless you are standing someplace where they want to be.
You’ll suddenly look up and notice you’ve been left behind,
And they’ll be there smiling to help you to get back in line.

You hate to accuse them ‘cause really you can’t quite believe
To gain very little, they’d bother to lie and deceive.
They’ve got it down pat, and they’ll sure pat you down as they smile;
You think that you’ve given an inch, but they took a mile.

It used to concern me that their kind could ever succeed.
“Lord, give me justice; Lord, take your vengeance, ” I’d plead.
Then God took the lid off and gave me a heavenly view;
I spotted them floating around in hypocrite stew.

I can’t say forgive them ‘cause, Father, they know what they do.
I picture them floating around in hypocrite stew.
They won’t take a life raft though you’ve thrown ‘em out more than two.
I can’t say forgive them ‘cause, Father, they know what they do.

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