Who Do I Sing This To?

As I play this guitar self taught,Within me stirs a thought,
Of the life here, Oh! this is such a drought,
May be I'm with my wild imaginations caught,
Men, kill men, in the name of religion,
As if, they own a brain of pigeon,
A little bit of diligence,
Would make a world of difference,
Who do I sing this to?
Such deaf ears around me,
None interested and much too little,
Tell me, whom do I sing this to?