A sickness we make excuses for
Is not a sickness but a love

We can never have enough
We always beg for more

And this violence is not a symptom
But the disease

When we ignore weeping pleas
As bullets and bodies flee wicked gunman

The only medicine
That can do the work

To rid us of this ill-loved curse
Is total acceptance of all our kin

So won't you join me
And give up the gun

Take up this love
Have love for the weak