You’ve got the dirty palms
I’ve got nothing to wash them with
After we sing the psalms
I’ve got so little left…but I’ve got this
Oh how the call is strong
The links disintegrate one by one
Just pull the yoke along
I’ve got nothing
I tithe like I have promised I would do
But still I am at fault
Take this paltry penance that is due
Before you take us all
You’ve got the golden throne
And we’ve got the broken hands
You’ve got the golden throne
I’ve got nothing
I tithe like I have promised I would do
But still I am at fault
Take this paltry penance that is due
Before you take us all
I tithe like I have promised I would do
But still I am at fault