Funeral Pyre
The fire from the funeral pyre gives off an unbelievable stench
Don’t be surprised when people vomit and retch
You want to burn a thousand goats to your god?
That’s fine but don’t forget the angry farmers you robbed
I see you filling your chalice with the tears of the poor
I see you getting drunk off their misery
I see you stripping children of their innocence
Taking the life from their eyes
Crushing their dreams into powder
Dividing your lines like how you divide the people
Addicted to the intoxicating high of supremacy
I see you building an altar to your false god
Preparing another holocaust to your false idols
Do you think god would be pleased?
When you maim, torture and kill his beautiful children?
Who taught you to lose your compassion?
What makes you blameless?
Building monuments to your majesty of vanity
She commands a sacrifice from her oppressed slaves
Her throne is built on bones of children
In her temple with columns of skulls stacked high
The officials grovel to the caricature of justice
Their contemptuous promises serving to destroy a forgotten people
You die the hero or live to become the villain
But it doesn’t matter if you were a villain anyway
It’s great to have a fall guy
Cause then nothing you do has consequences
Burn the witch, stone the fag
Jail the distenter, lynch the coloured man
Make them our unwilling vessels for our iniquities
And make the village blameless