'I die, I die!' the Mother said, 'My children die for lack of Bread.'

I am sure this Jesus will not do Either for Englishman or Jew.

My Brother starv'd between two Walls, His Children's Cry my Soul appalls;

This life's dim windows of the soul Distorts the heavens from pole to pole And leads you to believe a lie When you see with, not through, the eye.

Pregnant women and Vietnam vets, beggin on the freeway, bout as hard as it gets.

And homeless near a thousand homes I stood, And near a thousand tables pined and wanted food.

Friends, wives and husbands, sons and daughters, dead Of plague, famine, and arrows: and the houses Battered unsafe by cannonades of stone Hurled in by the Ass…