Guardians of Faith
By Rodney Sleeth
Who elected you to tell me what to think?
Who entrusted you to tell me what to dream?
Who hired you to guard this faith?
And who inspired you to take men to their graves?
Such pride for a king of slaves
Shall I submit to hypocrisy?
Shall I give my breath?
On the wheels of insanity
Through these wars that you wield over money and gold
It’s just dust for dust the substance of stone
Every dog has his bone
I want to go home
And every book that’s burnt
And every child that’s hurt
It’s all anger and rage
That’s packaged and staged
To f*** the poor man’s health
