People can you feel it
There's something in the air
Our brotherhood is dying
With no more love to spare

It ain't right
But it's alright this time
One more time

So come one, come all
To the judgement ball
Lay down your cross
And take up your sticks and stones
Year your sticks and stones
Treat me like you won
Then you busy my bones
With your sticks and stones

Kill the junk yard prophets
The law is in our hands
Hypocrisy has poisoned
The blood of Father's lamb

It ain't right
But it's alright this time
God's a friend of mine

Young or old
We all fit the mold
Everybody take up your sticks and stones
Yeah your sticks and stones
Treat me like you won
Then you busy my bones
With your sticks and stones

Young or old
We all fit the mold
Come one, come all
To the judgement ball
Everybody take up your sticks and stones