It’s hard to write a protest song,
to love your enemy, to know right from wrong.
It’s hard to know what to say
in such strange company. Who to Jesus pray
while sending children to their graves.
He was not a soldier. No, Jesus saves.
Show me, show me- where Jesus said
the righteous should be soldiers, the wicked should be dead.
Oo hypocrite! You boil my blood!
Worshiping warplanes and posing for good.
Kneeling on sunday in a three piece suit.
Commanding on monday your guns to shoot.
Worse by far than any I know,
So how do I love thee, how do i go?
I sing for my living. I sing for my lord.
I know a song can be a prayer. I know a song can be a sword.
So I know how hard it is to choose-
O Mr. President, just looking at you.
It’s hard not to write a protest song.
To love your enemy. To know right from wrong.
It’s hard to know what to say
in such strange company who to Jesus pray.