Natalie Merchant

Saddle up the horses and wear your Sunday best
Sing your Sacred Harp, you be holier than the rest
Fill up the room with a grand and a thunderous song
Let it rattle out the windows, let it spill out on the lawn
Shout, shout your praises to the man who kissed the Lord
To the back stabbing brother that betrayed all of this world
Your Judas!
Yea, though you may walk in the valley in the dark
There's no greater evil than the darkness in your heart
Your stun guns, bloodhounds, needle and your razor wire
Your nylon shackle whipping post and your high tech burning tire