And you fenced it and cleared it With the choicest of vine And you even built a tower And you looked that it would bring forth sweet grapes And it gave only wild grapes Between me and my vineyard
What more could I have done in it Why when I ask it for sweetness It brings only bitterness
For the vineyard of the lord of hosts
And he looks for justice but beholds oppression And he hopes for equality but hears a cry
To those who build house to house And lay field to field 'til there's room For none but you to dwell in the land
To those who call evil good And good evil who present Only the things which are bitterness
For the vineyard of the lord of hosts And the men of Judah his pleasant plant
Oh that my eyes were a fountain of tears That I might weep for my poor people
For every boot stamped with fierceness For every cloak rolled in blood More from Sinead O'connor