SOAP
Dan Mukala and Alex Anders
I’m bleaching and scrubbing
Been rubbin around in the dirt
Infested, Infected
My soul beginning to hurt
I’ll whitewash my tombstone
So bright and white and clean
But I don’t think no one can see the rot beneath
What Soap can never wash away
Deodorize or disinfect
The dirty hands of a derelict
What soap can never wash away
The blood-stained hands of a guilty man
Only Your love can
We’re fickle; we’re wayward
Rubbin shoulders with fallen angels
And carry epidemics
Spread around by street corner medics
We try and we try
To heal with the naked eye
And find a cure for the sinful seed
We carry in our genes