Hypocrite

I won't bow to the king of Elvis, I won't bow to the king of rain.
I won't bow to the king of diamonds, I won't bow to the king of spades,
And I don't deny the martyr and I don't deny his pain,
But I won't bow down to a political sky and I won't bow down to shame.

I can't satisfy the hunger, though I've searched the world for food,
I see others find connection, I don't understand their tools.
But I won't deny the anger so I must defy the rules,
And I won't bow down though my knees should fail 'till the hunger finds its food.

You hold these truths to be self evident, but could they be a lie?
It's circumstantial evidence, it won't hold up in trial.
And still you see me standing underneath this judge's sky.
But I won't bow down let the bailiff wail let the gavel crack the sky, yeah.

And if I fall on my knees, it won't be to please the hypocrites,
It won't be to please the kings.
If I fall on my knees, it won't be to the god of judgement and shame
It will be to the god of wings.

That's if I fall, if I fall.

And if I fall on my knees, it won't be to please the hypocrites,
It won't be to please the kings.
If I fall on my knees, it won't be to the god of judgement and shame
It will be to the god of wings.

That's if I fall, if I fall.