As the sun rises over Mexico
And sets on the African plains
On a tourist jet, the in-flight magazines
Sets out your rate of exchange
While the unhealed and homeless are wondering
If they will ever feel safe again
They give you drinks and show you sailors
Dancing in the warm New York rain
So many souls to change
So, a mother and child while travelling to Delhi
Have to jump off a burning train
While the puppet rich bible class third world society
Meets to discuss its slogan campaign
You are complicit in this conspiracy
You are unable to get free
They send the rich ones to university
And the rest get comics and TV
So many souls to change
You are shocked with shots of corpses
And seduced by scenes of grief
So, your overloaded conscience
Goes out looking for some kind of relief
And the church, the government and charity
They collectively agree
You cannot simply print more money
And just to save some poor country from disease
So many souls to change
So, when you die and go to heaven
Looks like there could be a hell to pay
As the saints and angels ask how anyone
Could treat mortals that way
