God; god of the Christians, god of the Muslims
I don't know what I will do to survive this week.
It is food I need but the market blew up last week
It's ironic, its times like this when you pray
But a bomb blew the masque up yesterday.
So much fighting, so much death
Meanwhile the rich at the bank cashing their checks
Asking you to show a little respect.
Like this war is really just
A different brand of war.
Like it doesn't cater to the rich
And an abandoned the poor.
I dare not leave my house
For fear of being dragged away like my sister
Tortured and killed
50/50 live or die
Everyday you pray
And this fear is always at the back of your head
Makes you paranoid that's what my sister said
Look how well it got her. Must be null and void.
God, whoever you might be, help.