I hear the cries from the ground so loud Blood soaked streets wear a shameful shroud The scales are tipped the poor pushed out Truth buried deep under greed’s dark cloud You trample the needy like dirt on your shoe Build your mansions while their lives are bruised The harvest you hoard it ain't yours to choose The judge is coming no way to refuse Let the rivers roar let the mountains quake The lion's growl says the world will shake You buy the poor for a pair of old shoes Sell the broken just to fuel your ruse Fattened calves on the altars of pride While the widow and orphans are cast aside You sing your songs but they're empty tunes Your feasts are hollow beneath gold spun moons You dress the wound with a counterfeit balm But the wrath of the Lord ain't quiet or calm Let justice roll down like waters wide Let righteousness flow like never ending tide Weigh your heart in the balance no place to hide Let justice roll down let justice decide The book of Amos The earth cries loud the trees bend low Fields once golden now refuse to grow Cities crumble dust fills the sky A land of plenty now runs dry why? Blood in the river justice runs thin They trade their souls for silver and sin The cries of the poor like echoes in the void Their pain ignored their lives destroyed You build your mansions walls so high But no stone stands when truth walks by You trample the weak their cries ignored But the judge comes swinging His sword Famine of love a drought of care We choke on greed we breathe despair The stars dim out the moon turns red A warning’s written where angels tread Seek the Lord let justice flow Like waters rushing breaking stone The land weeps the land screams Broken by our wicked dreams But there's a light a narrow way Turn back now while it's still day The book of Amos Hear the lowing, soft and deep Bashan's cows in velvet sleep, On beds of ease, they stretch and yawn While fields of grain are left forlorn. Diamond hooves and jeweled horns They feast on plenty every morn, Oblivious to the hungry cries Lost in their gilded paradise. Bring more wine, and richer cream Blind to the suffering, it would seem, Their laughter echoes, hollow, cold As justice is bought and souls are sold. Silk and spices, myrrh and gold Stories of sorrow left untold, The prophet's words, they cannot hear For comfort dulls both eye and ear. But mark my words, a day will come When luxury's song is stricken dumb, And Bashan's cows will face the plow Their reign of ease is over now. The book of Amos

Amos 2