Oh my Lord
My sweet Lord
Isho the
Nazarene
Prophet and King
Bending down
To let us stand
On your
shoulders
To see what we
can be
Speaking out
For the Helpless
Who have no
Voice
Stooping down
To reach out
your hands
To lift up
The Despised and
Rejected
Those who are
Outside
Looking in at
the rest
Who go on with
their lives
Thankful than
they
Are not like us
My sweet Lord
Neither divine Rebel
Reeking
destruction
Nor sacred
Defender
Of the Status
Quo
The most
dangerous critic
Comes from
within
My sweet Lord
Followed in life
by thousands
Who all deserted
you
In your hour of
need
My sweet Lord
They betray your
memory today
As they betrayed
you then
The
Establishment
Has stolen you
From those of us
To whom you came
Claiming you as
its own
Making you the
silent icon
Of their
creeping meatball culture
And their Law
and Order regime
No comments:
Post a Comment