Who Are You

Sitting on your pedestal Or high horse if you will Judging those you've never met People standing still It's all the same We all make choices If it's not what you would do Who are you to have to voice it I'm no better than the poorest souls Or the richest of the suits. Who are you but an angry sheep Dressed in the skins of the righteous brute Bow down before the ones you scorn For we, tolerate you Choke on what sets you apart We have none to prove So what does that make you