A POT CALLING A KETTLE BLACK

You make me laugh
Each time you talk
On your good choices
To deify your gods
With celestial cathedrals
And mighty mosques
I turn around to see
A pot calling a kettle black

You ridicule my ways
Call them primitive past
Scornfully spit on my shrines
Claim a better understanding of life
You know very little about me
A pot calling a kettle black

You say I make sacrifices
I accept without hesitation
To appease the gods of our land
Which you condemn as pagan ways
You desecrate upon our sacred places
Finding fault as I dance to the heat
A pot calling a kettle black

A dancer does not know
His back is crooked
You smile to your admirers
As you dance in your folly
You apportion blame
Your back is crooked too
Ask someone in the audience
A pot calling a kettle black

You sacrificed your only son
Rush to kill ram and goats
On Christmas and sallah days
Tell me about these things you do
We are the same in sacrificing
Blood spills, just take a look
A pot calling a kettle black

We all sit on the stove
With fire on our buttocks
Boiling water or cooking soup
Bathed in smoke all the way through
Losing our shine with the flame of life
A pot calling a kettle black

You came from afar
And took my land
With crusade and jihad
You pulled down my home
And forced me out
To live in the forest now
I am at home with nature
Give me a breathing space
A pot calling a kettle black

Include our noble customs
In the law books of the land
Accommodate our worshippers
Triangle has three points
Count me as an equation
Father, son and the spirit
Get the mathematics right
A pot calling a kettle black