I beat the dead; they don't fight back,
They have no needs, they have no lack,
They bear the mark of my attack,
I beat the dead; they don't react.

Well, call me fiend or call me foul,
Throw me to the dogs that bite and howl,
Before you point a finger or cry an empty tear, better buy yourself a alibi or get yourself a mirror.

I rob the poor; they don't mind,
I take whatever I happen to find; it's never much at any one time,
I rob the poor; it's not a crime.

Well, call me fiend or call me foul,
Throw me to the dogs that bite and howl,
Before you point a finger or cry an empty tear, better buy yourself a alibi or get yourself a mirror.

I beat the dead, oh yeah,
I beat the dead,
Oh yeah, come on.

I kill the children before they're born, as their little feet begin to form,
Don't buy them shoes; they won't be worn,
I kill the children; I am not scorned.

Call me fiend or call me foul,
Throw me to the dogs that bite and howl,
Before you point a finger or cry an empty tear, better buy yourself a alibi or get yourself a mirror.

I beat the dead, yes, I do,
I beat the dead, oh.

You just drive on by that hopeless woman and child,
Do you look the other way when you drive through the wrong side of town'
Oh yeah,
As you've done it unto the least, that's how you do it to Jesus,
I'm telling you, brothers,
I'm telling you, sisters.

Don't beat the dead.