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rev. hooper (the minister's black veil) - heath mcnease lyrics

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[intro]
what is done in darkness comes to light
sometimes darkness haunts us in clear sight
a veil, not for my face, but for my fallen mind
what is done in darkness comes to light

[interlude]
(hide my face)
shroud my eyes
(hide my face)
let this veil fall down
(hide my face)
for my crimes
(hide my face)
in this lonely town
(hide my face)
i see vultures circling
(hide my face)
to pick apart what’s left of me
(hide my face)

[verses]
(yeah)
black crepe hang down, only lips visible
all good deeds are forgettable
’cause only sin’s memorable
if reverend hooper said he’s just shy of forgivable
then i’m gallows hill bound
’cause i ain’t gon’ fall into short of lynch-able
and john proctor was reputable, estimable
but printable decree said he’ll still end up hester-prynn-able
so bless the venerable
reverend hooper’s sinister
veil that covers sins so unbecoming of a minister
puritans
rebecca nurse becomes a martyr
cause when you hate we love ’em harder
wonder whose hand snuck up in putnam’s garter

this is gothic salem
this is occam’s razor
say intoxicate though
speech and faulty logic makes ’em awful neighbors
this is arthur miller
this mccarthyism
this an auschwitz prison
communism, n-z-s, witches plots are not that different
hawthorne changed his frickin’ name ’cause he was wrought with visions
of a twisted family tree with roots that strangled all its victims

punishment for sin is isolation
dying in the same p-ss-poor conditions we were raised in
jonathon edwards said we’re pigs on a spit bastin’
but compared to salem 1690, this vacation
real estate article
simple carriage ride from boston
nautical-themed hamlet nestled up to
marblehead and gloucester
roger conant’s bronze iconic statue in the common
facing washington is watching when dawn is falling upon us

i see an apparition every step i take
i suspect today is the day a specter takes my face
and it takes my shape
following my enemies for days while i sit and wait
at least that’s what abi williams say
and i’m whisked away
just like bridget bishop in some chains
crying “innocent” while villagers
are diggin’ up my grave
it’s a shallow one
straight off the gallows dumped
i become an afterthought
just after all these feuding families have their fun

[outro]
what is done in darkness comes to light
sometimes darkness haunts us in clear sight
a veil, not for my face, but for my fallen mind
what is done in darkness comes to light

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