Stolen Faith Blues

I’ve been torn from the desert, dragged over the sea,
Chain on my body but my soul still free.
They took away my prayer and they beat me down cruel,
Tried to break my faith – make me forget the Golden Rule.
Oh Lord, I got the blues, the Stolen Faith Blues so deep…
Crying to the sky, my ancestors’ souls to keep.


My mamā’s mamā prayed in Wolof under a midnight sky,
Whisperin’ “Allāhu Akbar” where no overseer’s eye.
By day they called me slave, gave me some stranger’s name,
But I remember Musa (Moses) who stood up to Pharoah’s game.
They can whip my back, Lord, and scar me through and through,
But they cain’t strip away these Stolen Faith Blues.


You can steal my body, you can burn my Qur’ān,
Silence my tongue, put a cross in my hand – oh, but listen:
There’s a light inside me that no lash can kill, 
It’s the love of RasūlAllāh – and I feel it burning still.
From the land of Bilāl to these Carolina hues,
We still singin’ “Ash-hadu an lā ilāha illā-llāh,” in these Stolen Faith Blues.


They painted the prophets to look nothing like me,
Gave Isa (Jesus) blue eyes on my church fan for me to see.
But my heart it knew better – truth cut clean through the lies,
’Cause Moosa was dark-skinned, had the strength of ten lions alive .
Maryam’s baby boy, Eesa, was a bronze-skinned Jew,
So I ain’t bowing to no false image – I want the true message too.


Devil in the cottonfield said, “Forget who you are.”
(Forget who you are…)
But angels in my heart kept faith’s door ajar.
(Kept that door… oh yeah…)
From Timbuktu to Savannah, we carried the Noor (light) all along,
(Carried that light…)
Now the spirits of my fathers got me singin’ this song!
(Singin’ this song!) Ohhhh…


You can change my name, you can shackle my hands,
Make me kneel to your king in these strange new lands.
But Allāh’s 99 names still beat in my breast,
And the love of Muhammad (salla Allahu ‘alayhi wa sallam) won’t let my soul rest.
No, you cain’t steal my heartbeat or the truth of my muse,
It cries “Lā ilāha illā-llāh” through these Stolen Faith Blues…


Now generations later, I hear Grandpa’s hidden song,
He was hummin’ “Subḥānallāh” when the nights were long.
I feel Habībullah’s (God’s Beloved’s) smile shining in my dark eyes,
That’s Rasūlullāh’s heritage – the promise they couldn’t disguise .
From the soil of Medina to the fields where we’d weep,
We found our way home; what was sown, we shall reap.


I had the Stolen Faith Blues, but those blues made me strong,
Turned my pain into prayer, and my sorrow to song.
Through mercy and patience, I paid my dues,
Now Allah’s grace guides me out of these blues.
Oh Lord of the worlds, let my children never lose –
The faith that was stolen… in those long-ago blues.