On The Mountain

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