To Sell Your Christ in Heresy

Ignorance is bliss based on a ludicrous premise, that what I don't know won't hurt me,
Unless I know I don't know, and in knowing see I'm not the least bit deserving.

See the fact of the matter is there are no facts cause those truths are written as follows,
tonight we'll lace the headlines with lies which will read to our convenience tomorrow.

And on billboards that border what's known as White America happy little decrees will decry,
the little girl who wants neither hemp nor jewels as her necklace.

Unacceptable that she plays in the yard with her imaginary friends,
and that those friends have problems like her.

And the neighbors wander over and ask her who she talks to, she says Ahkmed, Katrine, and Raul,
they ask, "Why would you invent someone who's imperfect and in pain?", she says, "I don't know, how does God answer you?"

But blue eyes and blonde hair will earn her the lesson that her race has never cared and the curriculum will achieve its antithesis,
Soujourner Truth smiles in expired outh as we examine a past bleeding flaws,
but diverts her eyes from years unchanged for we've failed to pair faults with a cause.

History's not philosophy so we don't discuss more than what we're not to be,
but I thought Civics, Civics was about duty,
that every person, first a civilian, can vote and work and pursuit prosperity,
but that banks on you being civil and to assume so you must sell your Christ in heresy.

Civilization is defined by those who call themselves civil and so the argument is a bit circular,
regardless, by those standards it seems gentlemen can forget their brother's burden and ladies, their soul's entablature.

What testament is it that says "thou shall not buy your house across from trailer park"?,
the same one that says "don't breath too deep tasting life might stop your heart."

Please, allow me to avoid hypocrisy, leave your feet and stop with me,
lets adopt a purpose together,
if nothing else this, each night we pause and observe the weather,
we'll name the clouds out loud and understand that whether its war, starvation, or shame,
only those who opt for their mind's paralysis can claim they've got it made.

and we'll never curse the rain 'cause whether it ends someone's famine or brings someone's flood its not falling drops on trial,
its me and you as our tongues catch the sky's elixir,
it's whether we'll wed the world our bride and in doing so redefine a gentlemen's style.