Gospel Shoes
Some set their heads to swimming, nothing to lose
And drift about the good times with slippers in their boots
Some walk the straight and narrow, only passing through.
Gospel Shoes are laced with shackles and chains
Fitted for the poor, the runners of the race
Now every hand is folded to the shape of a gun
The targets ever changing but the war, it rages on
CH: So the armies march onward for the Mother and the Son
As this world of screaming color is bleached in the blood.
Freedom was a simple word, so reverent and true
A long time ago it meant the right to choose
Who you love and how to live, but now it's so misused
And twisted by the politics of men in gospel shoes.