But You Said

I turn on the T.V.,
And all I see,
Is death and war,
Floods and people lying hungry on the floor,
I cry for God to tell me why,
He lets them become so poor while I put on my thousand-dollar tie,
While cities are swept away,
Suburban youth complains; tryin’ to imitate Dre,
We sob at how bad our lives are,
As we pass the charred and burning car,
I whine about my achin’ tooth,
While poverty limits inner city youth,
When I don’t want to go to university,
Others strive to get in despite the locks and find the key,
I say I’ve been forsaken,
While it’s considered acceptable to be life takin’,
I weep and write emo poetry,
While children starving reach for moldy Brie,
So I’m prayin’ God,
Why are the boys and girls’ faces in the sod?
You are a God of love,
So where is the helping hand from above?
I don’t need it right now,
They need a carton of milk; give them a cow,
They are your children,
And they’ll be dead by ten,
So save them all,
They’re cornered between the wall,
Even when we don’t care,
That kid in the poster still needs a teddy bear,
Don’t comfort me,
Your people were meant to be free!