The truth is like a sword that Eden can't deny
Everywhere that me trot, me still hear the same cry
The guys don't offer nothin' up when me see where dem a fly
Paper bombs and grenade and gun dem supply
Salvation's a sweet to bring good things to high
Me see seh some a sell where people just can't buy
What's up with the need, the necessity, no reply
Me never tired fi heal Rastafari