Angry

I know ten thousand Christians
Don’t matter what they believe in
Don’t matter where they’re going
Or matter where they’ve been
I know ten thousand Buddha’s
That many Muslims and Jew
They all say that they love me
But why does it matter to you
These that sing, chant and pray
All seem joyous, happy and free
So what should I trust from them
These that drink a different tea
I led a horse to the well with water
And danced on the head of a pin
Never been tortured or tamed
Tripped, stumbled or fell for sin
My sweetness is not of sugar
My name at times has changed
Likes those in a crowded room
So quickly and neatly arranged
I’ve hidden low in the valley
Raised my eyes as if it’s heaven
Cried tears on lonesome knees
And got angry as if to get even

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