Some set their heads to swimming, nothing to lose Drift about their good times, slivers in their boots Some walk the straight and narrow, only passing through Trading this world over for a pair of gospel shoes
Gospel shoes are laced with shackles and chains Fitted for the poor runners of the race Now every hand is folded shape of a gun Target's ever changing but the war it rages on
So the armies march onward for the mother and the son As this world of screaming color is bleached in the blood
Freedom was a simple word so reverent and true A long time ago, it meant the right to choose Who you love and how to live, now it's so misused Twisted by the politics of men in gospel shoes
So the armies march onward for the mother and the son As this world of screaming color is bleached in the blood Our mother she is crying, her broken heart is blue 'Cause we're too busy dying to love this life we lose
She's growing weary of the lying She's tired of all this fighting in the name of gospel shoes