There’s a man who lives at the top of a house

Made of rotting wood and stone

He watches over everyone

who live on the floors below

They kiss him and they bow for him

They shower him with prayers

He’s the one and only mighty holy

Man upstairs

 

There’s fighting on the bookshelves

One side shouting “Kill the gays”

The other says “Lets love each other

We’re sick of your old ways”

When I ask them who their leaders are

they both say that you’re theirs,

Who do you agree with

Man upstairs?

 

The bow tied gangster at the dining table

His suit made out of gold

sewn by children in shoebox workshops

Some are five years old

They’re dressed in rags, but make the clothes

Sold by billionaires

How do you explain that one,

Man upstairs?

 

Tell me when you sleep at night

What is it that you think?

You gave the greedy all their money

And didn’t let the humble drink

Yet “all are equal” says the preacher

As he mightily declares

That everyone is loved the same

By the man upstairs

​

For centuries they’ve said he’ll come

And save us from the hate

But he must be stuck in traffic

Cause he’s running rather late

When will he clothe the cold?

With the power that he bears

The one and only mighty holy

Man upstairs