When Muhammad and his friends were suffering
He sent them down to Axum, 'cross the sea
Hospitality was overseen by a certain Christian king
Who asked them to share their great book's prophecy
So in A.D. 615, from the Qur'an it was read
That the chaste girl Mary had followed what the Lord had said
And moved by the story, the Christian king wept
His bishops crying too, until their scrolls were drenched
We've tried to make him who we want him to be
A brown man who bombs buildings and equips our enemies
Is it true history or convenient belief
That seeks to justify the hatred we breed?
So when Mary's bastard child learned the skill of lore
He then mastered fermentation and spent excessive time with whores
And when miracles and clever insults seemed a cause to call him "Lord"
He'd say, "Close your mouth, not another word more."
Don't try to make him who you want him to be
Cuz you know how to reason and you know how to read
Even Matthew, Mark, and Luke and John were off wandering
Through their own hopes, their fears and their dreams
Do we believe?
Do we blaspheme?
Or do we do something different in between?
Do we believe?
Do we blaspheme?
Or do we do something different in between?
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