Smoke covers your city,
The sun is red as blood,
Dry of human pity —
Your love with an asterisk isn’t love.
Of pity’s gentle rain
Not a drop is seen —
You fight the fires of pain
With bloodshed — like gasoline.
(White bearded fools,
And flint hearted mothers,
Bequeathed you evil rules,
And closed your hearts to others.)
Like lions who crouch for their prey,
The strong lie in wait for the weak,
And you walking by every day
Don’t speak for the ones who can’t speak.
No more peaceful’s the lion at night
Than the lion who kills in the day;
You cry “Peace!” when the blood’s out of sight,
And the violence is hidden away.
World citizens who won’t
Pity your most helpless neighbour,
You think your “progressive” vote
Gives you a waiver.
Wisdom is with your crowd
Whatever it says is true —
“Love wins” shouted long and loud
Means whatever the crowd wants to do.
But love will forever win,
And so hell opens its beak,
As you as a crowd march in,
And the earth is received by the meek.