Blessed Are the Land Mines

Blessed are the land-mines,
stretched across the desert floor,
God, bless the hands that formed them,
filled their shrapnel hearts with war.
May You bless the companies,
the goose that laid the golden egg,
may they make a million more,
blowing off a million legs.
Blessed are the black-tongued ravens,
substituting fear for reason:
" To hate war is to hate us,
if you love peace, then you must love treason."
Beat your plowshares into swords,
beat your pulpits, turn your tables,
blessed are the hand-grenades,
bless the church who rattles sabers.

chorus
This house,
is burning,
this poison still is worming.
This temple
will cave in
there's nothing here worth saving.

Nail the gold up to the altar,
like Ahab taunts his crew to war,
blessed are the shareholders,
lack of faith is for the poor.
Hold your wallets to the sky,
a temple built to soothe yourself.
Blessed is the church who tries,
to help you build your blessed wealth.

bridge
Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth...
Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy...
Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God.
Matthew 5: 5-9