God made his face, made his hands, made his mouth
That black griot tongue spitting out a call to revolution
Not a revolution of blood, but of the mind and hands
That which builds not destroys, that which lives in faith
Not in the untruths of the world
God made his face, and in that face the revolution that was his griot mouth
The ferocity of truth in his eyes, his hands, these stories
With him and in us, gather your hands, your stories
Gather, gather, gather in his name, gather, gather
With the powers that be
Nothing is planned
It's a shame
'Cause I don't like workin' too hard
The pressure to rule with power
When common sense is in
Like your heart it beats too slow
There's a world to overthrow
Like your heart
Too slow, too slow
People who don't never will
Kill you in the morning
Certainly responsible almost
With the powers that be
Freedom's a sham
It's a shame
'Cause I don't like lovin' too hard
Like your heart
It beats too slow
Kill you in the morning
Too slow
Like your heart
Like your heart
Like your heart beats too slow
'Cause I don't like lovin' too hard
With the powers that be