God must have made the gun
That strong, heaven sending death stick.
I cannot see man, weak man
Making such a perfect, infallible beast.
Sticks, stones, knives and rope
These are different
They are not anonymous like a gun or god.
Not all the hymns, from all the lips
In all the churches the world over
Will make me know different
Faith, hope, charity, goodwill
These are godly things,
But so too is a gun.
I am sure that if god sits
On his throne high above,
He sits with a gun across his lap,
In fear of those below.
Those below with many guns
And many heavenly thoughts.