How Many More Will It Take?

America your hands are stained:
Ten shots, another poor man slain—
How many more will it take?

There's blood upon your sacred name,
Your cities flood in tears of rage—
How many more will it take

Till they heed the cry?
How high must waters rise?
How long must bullets fly
Till good men don't gotta die?

Liberty locked up in chains,
Freedom fled, Justice enslaved—
How many more will it take?

War drums pounding—back again!
What lies will defend this campaign?
How many more will it take

Till they heed the cry?
How high must waters rise?
How long must bullets fly
Till good men don't gotta die?

America your soul's aflame:
Your smoke-filled skies, what will remain?
How many more will it take?

And every hand that plays your game
With Judas, Brutus, Pilate shakes—
How many more will it take?

Till they heed the cry?
How high must waters rise?
How long must bullets fly
Till good men don't gotta die?

Till good men don't gotta die...