God made his face, made his hands, made his mouth

That black griot tongue spitting out a call to revolution

Not a revolution of blood, but of the mind and hands

That which builds not destroys, that which lives in faith

Not in the untruths of the world

God made his face

and in that face the revolution that was his griot mouth

The ferocity of truth in his eyes, his hands, these stories

With him and in us, gather your hands, your stories

Gather, gather, gather in his name, gather, gather

With the powers that be

Nothing is planned

It's a shame

'Cause I don't like workin' too hard

The pressure to rule with power

When common sense is in

Like your heart it beats too slow

There's a world to overthrow

Like your heart

Too slow, too slow

People who don't never will

Kill you in the morning

Certainly responsible almost

With the powers that be

Freedom's a sham

It's a shame

'Cause I don't like lovin' too hard

Like your heart

It beats too slow

Kill you in the morning

Too slow

Like your heart

Like your heart

Like your heart beats too slow

'Cause I don't like lovin' too hard

With the powers that be