Blessed are the Poor

POOR MAN’S RENT (BLESSED ARE THE POOR PART 1)
There’s a mist across Table Mountain
Like a veil to hide the hell
Beast’s ransack of such beauty
It’s a hard truth to sell
The wind howls too worldly wise
Trying to blow the knowledge away
The rain drives like freezing tears
Making desolation more desolate today
When he said “Blessed are the poor”
I’m sure this isn’t what Jesus meant
Fama’s baby being laid to sleep
In the sandy grave of a poor man’s rent.

Black crows crowd on death barbed wire
Like the devil is signing his art
Evil despises his neighbour’s child
As he pampers his own wealthy heart
And I think if I stared any longer
The sacred sadness would blind my eyes
Or maybe I’d see the cry of God
Condemning my own deluded lies
When he said “Blessed are the poor”
I’m sure this isn’t what Jesus meant
Fama’s baby being laid to sleep
In the sandy grave of a poor man’s rent.

BLESSED ARE THE POOR (Part 2)
Blessed are the poor
For they have to love their neighbours
The wages of selfishness is death
Survival depends on collective labour
Blessed are the poor
For they cannot afford a fence
Their homes are nothing like a bank vault
To store up their independence

And every day I get to meet Jesus
And be Jesus to everyone I meet
Here God doesn’t live an empty Church
Here God lives on the crowded street.

Blessed are the poor
For they aren’t torn between distractions
No internet or iPod or DVD
Just the simply joy of their children’s affection
Blessed are the poor
Without products to help safe their face
Who you see is what you see
With a higher value of mercy and grace.

And every day I get to meet Jesus
And be Jesus to everyone I meet
Here God doesn’t live an empty Church
Here God lives on the crowded street.

And the poor smile as if their happy
For the westerner that’s kind of funny
I’d don’t think that its poverty that makes them laugh
I think its their lack of money.

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