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It wasn't my daughter
Why should I care
My kids are well adjusted
And it happened over there
I saved lots of souls
All right, one or two
Why let a little abuse problem
Ruin my heavenly view
Its long in the past
Dragging it up again will hurt
And you can't prosecute the dead
They're already covered by dirt
* * * *
How well did you really know
That missionary you called friend
Who your precious kids
Every year you did send
The missionary that didn't make it
So they let them run the dorm
Who, while you were doing Gods work
Kept you child, fed, clothed and warm
Or was that what you read
In the censored letters your kids sent
Did it not occur to you
That the truth was being bent
That your kid was being beaten
Molested and mind bent many a way
But they were too scared to tell you
Because with their soul they'd pay
Look at the list of abusers
Some were near to thee
And remember for every name
There is another two or three
* * * *
Now look at you child
Is there some unexplained mystery
Desperately thin or emotionally vague
Is there something longing to be free
Maybe you were lucky
It wasn't your child that suffered abuse
But it could be your grandchild
For those abusers are still on the loose
* * * *
And how do I know this
I didn't read it in a book
I was there in person
And had a first hand look
I thought it just happened to me
That I bore my cross alone
Was told that I was bitter and twisted
By some missionary on the phone
Then the revelation
MK after MK broken, bruised and bent
By the boarding schools
To which they were sent
The coverups and the lies
A system so badly badly wrong
That with life itself
It is hard for some to get a long
* * * *
So now you know the truth
You can choose to put your head in the sand
Or join us and fight for justice
We'd be very glad of another hand
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