Testo: Tori Amos. Pancake.

He-ya. He-ya.
I'm not sure who's fooling who here,
As I'm watching your decay.
We both know you could deflate a seven hurricane.
Seems like you and your tribe,
Decided you'd rewrite the law,
Segregate the mind from body from soul.

You give me yours, I'll give you mine.
'Cause I can look your God right in the eye...
You give me yours, I'll give you mine.
You used to look my God right in the eye. He-ya.


I believe in defending in what we once stood for.
It seems in vogue to be a closet misogynist homophobe.
A change of course in our direction,
A dash of truth spread thinly...
Like a flag on a popstar, on a Benzodiazapene.


You give me yours, I'll give you mine.
'Cause I can look your God right in the eye...
You give me yours, I'll give you mine.
You used to look my God right in the eye. He-ya.


Oh, Zion please remove your glove,
And dispel every trace of His spoken word,
That has lodged in my vortex.


I'm not sure who's fooling who here,
As I'm watching our decay.
We both know you could deflate a seven hurricane.
You could have spared her- oh, but no,
Messiahs need people dying in their name...
You could have spared her- oh, but no,
Messiahs need people dying in their name.
You say, "I ordered you a pancake..." He-ya.
You say, "I ordered you a pancake.."