this way we get down

The world is your turntable.
your cross-fade struck the earth.
time's needle slipped. and
you changed the- mood of a foul
party -record.

Grooves stunnin. kingdom comin.
Warble and woofer. Solar flare
Pop trunk. Mothership crunk.
Celestial hodown.

Centuries change. Nations rage.
Still we rise. Cause you rose.
Plants pierce concrete. children
chant down the bulls of Babylon
on wallet street. an elderly
woman chains her neck to a
tomahawk missile. because you
took the worst the world could
ba rum pa bum BOOM!
and took it to your grave.

Death Bee, where has your stinger gone?
Death Bee, where is your satisfaction?

Now we know.
there is something worth
dying for.
and nothing worth
killing for.

AIN'T GONNA LET NOBODY,

Turn Me Round.
Turn Me Round.
Turn Me Round.

AIN'T GONNA LET NO PRESIDENT,

Turn Me Round.
Turn Me Round.
Turn Me Round.

AIN'T GONNA LET INDIFFERENCE,

Turn Me Round.
Turn Me Round.
Turn Me Round.

AIN'T GONNA LET NO RICHES,

Turn Me Round.
Turn Me Round.
Turn Me Round.

Peter drew his weapon.
to save his love from harm.
blood was shed. then given back.
with a shout to disarm.

Now we are...

Live by the Spirit, die by the sword.
Live a resurrected now, wearing handcuffs.

We give our money away.
to have heaven flowing
round our feet.
kingdom of YHWH hydrant.
flooding the street.
we get down.
suit and tie.
anarchist. simpleton.
porn star. gladiator.
childfolk. and elder.

come celebrate this swarming nest of rebirth.

Our heart is your beat.
and it sounds hard.
we hear a new heartbeat
and Yah, it sounds hard.
Mercy and justice kiss
on the corner and Yah,
love sounds hard.
An iraqi needs a friend
carrying their cross and
Yah, that sounds hard.
the hungry and hurting
need a place at our table,
not the leftovers in our
trash and Yah, that sounds hard.
Creation groans for liberation
and the living turn and breath
dirt over the living and Yah
that sounds hard.

Wake us up and we will follow you
into the night of scorching days,
where Love...

conquers hatred without resorting to aggression.

releases the wounded and imprisoned caught in our
cross-fires.

lifts up every New Orleans and pulls Mt. Rushmore
down on it's face to see who our neighbors all are.

A haggard and bedraggled squirrel with a dingy
wooden mixing spoon went to the United Nations
and spoke to the leaders of the world:

"You create a fine sounding recipe, you just can't yet appreciate
a cake eaten on an earth without borders and flags."