Like splinters in my head
I grieve for the dead,
What a waste, what a waste
Cursed they faced in horrible haste
Men's hearts cry for a better dream
Even if it be a nasty lie
Give them a better scheme
A much higher thought to know to fly
To lift them up not bring them low
A brighter cause a noble thought
Let them be caught in prayer to
A God of love with work to do
One who would not kill you
But born again to help their fellow man
To give a helping hand
To kiss their beaten brow
Enfold in love and show them how
To fulfill God 's plan With love and harmony
Sweet good perfumed charity
Turn before too late from murderous hate
Think of Golgotha's hill
A sacrifice for peace and goodwill
A God of love and mercy too
Even for you, even for you
For If you give torment and pain
What do you forever gain
No rich paradise of which to tell
But eternity to burn in tortuous hell
The splinters in my head
Cry for your dead and you
Will you not listen to
A still small voice and do
Work to enrich your soul
With a higher goal
God is love not hate
Turn before tis too late
For the killing you do only assured you pain
For murdering is not a noble gain
If your heart is set to do God's will
I tell you. It is NOT to kill!
But love, peace, and goodwill
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