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Blessed are the land-mines Stretched across the desert floor God, bless the hands that formed them Filled their shrapnel hearts with war May You bless the companies The goose that laid the golden egg May they make a million more Blowing off a million legs Blessed are the black-tongued ravens Substituting fear for reason To hate war is to hate us If you love peace, then you must love treason Beat your plowshares into swords Beat your pulpits, turn your tables Blessed are the hand-grenades Bless the church who rattles sabers This house, is burning This poison still is worming This temple, will cave in There's nothing here worth saving Nail the gold up to the altar Like Ahab taunts his crew to war Blessed are the shareholders Lack of faith is for the poor Hold your wallets to the sky A temple built to sooth yourself Blessed is the church who tries To help you build blessed wealth |
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