We

We treat you like Moloch,

a blood-thirsty god 

and offer our children

for favor and guns

We lift you up as our banner,

our warrior god,

and claim without doubt 

that you are on our side

We're greedy wanderers

striking rocks for money-water

building altars to Mammon,

chasing after the next savior-idol

We pretend to be You, 

our very own god,

we call all the shots

and decide what is right 

Mercy, mercy

We're blind seekers

groping for a helping hand, 

confused and bruised

by the lies of false prophets,

longing for truth and for light