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The Judge

from Steakhouse by Steakhouse

/

lyrics

The Judge sits peering into the fire
His massive body is pink and pale
Completely nude and devoid of hair
He placed his palms on the rocky ground
This is my claim he said
What else could I call mine?
Yet everywhere there is free-borne life
Alive in pockets upon the earth
Hey says whatever exists exists
Without my knowledge and my consent
This is my claim he said
What else could I call mine?
This is the Judge’s book
And this is his writing hand
Any creature not writ there
Is living on borrowed land
For only nature enslaves a man
And only when each and all of them
Is dragged to daylight and made to stand
In judgment naked beneath the sun
Only then can he be
Properly suzerain
This is the Judge’s book
And this is his writing hand
Any creature not writ there
Is living on borrowed land
And here come the baddest days
Chaos rides upon the land
The day you made his acquaintance
Something was took from you
This is my claim he said
What else could I call mine?
See him dance on tiny feet
Head back and laughing deep
He says he’ll never stop dancing
He says that he never sleeps
This is the Judge’s night
His great dome aglare in light
He says he’ll never stop dancing
He says he will never die

credits

from Steakhouse, released September 1, 2014

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Steakhouse San Francisco, California

Steakhouse is a rock group from San Francisco, California. They play post-punk with bits of country/ western thrown in at all the wrong times. They've headlined big clubs in San Francisco but have yet to play a single rodeo.

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