Fidgeting hands, hasty reasoning
What is this reckoning?
With no sin I come here
But why am I full of fear?
No dirt can be seen in my hands
Yet you indict me of murderous glands
I am no saint
I might faint
Why the suspicious glances towards me?
I am innocent but maybe you can't see
For your reasoning might be worse than mine
Yet you all look so clean so fine
Shame and prejudice is written on all your faces
I wonder, is this what happens in those cases
Judged without even digging the truth
The shallowness of your being makes me laugh, you have no root.
