In ancient Palestine a Roman middle manager dresses down a radical 
 I have a backlog of so-called prophets 
 You are of a multitude 
 The offender said: I witness truth 
 Perplexed and filled with pique the jailer replied 
 Truth, what is it? 
    Outside of Darlington 1963 on certain mornings a specter appeared 
 In a well-appointed back garden 
 Its voice was still heard after the Sun had burned away its image 
 Consulting physicists and mediums, the man he realized 
 It was a relative living a 1000 miles away 
 Half sister was thinking of him very poorly on those mornings   
 In Northern Michigan there was an incident in winter 
 A horse was hit by lightning and began to speak in a foreign language 
 When he was finally understood, it repeated: Humans are no good 
 So they shot it behind the shed and stuffed him 
 He's now on display as a lesson for the kids to always do your best 
 Do your best always 
 Always 
 Always   
 Truth is a colicking horse 
 That serves no purpose 
 Truth is a babbling prisoner 
 You'd rather not kill if they confess 
 Truth is the half sister 
 That will not be forgotten 
 Truth is the half sister 
 That will not forgive   
 She is trying to reach you 
 Trying to reach you