"TRADITIONS MIGRAINE"
We are the clay to the blind man The living water that goes through our lips To the blind man believing - a miracle! To the self-righteous just dirt mixed with spit ****** They say surely that man is a sinner That mixes his water with clay But the blind man now seeing is "Really Believing" The Light of the Sabbath Day Behold! They say we must stop him But the people - what will they say We'll just call him a heretic sinner Before he draws our disciples away Should any man follow that Jesus Speaking the things he spoke today We'll brand them as heretics - sinners And from our churches we'll drive them away The people they call him a prophet He's a troublemaker - we say If we keep losing all our disciples We're going to get a reduction in pay Oh! My God! What a brilliant deduction! Crucify him - Yes! That's just what we'll do. We will keep our disciples and all of their money And with this Jesus - We'll finally be through. Oh! My God! I don't want to hear it. You mean to tell me - he's no longer dead And he's raised up some others Calling them sisters and brothers And they're repeating the same things he said You know that I'm having a migraine It's just not the way we had planned He's come back to haunt us Seemingly just to taunt us His disciples are growing -- That's Just Grand! ( spoken sarcastically) You know I don't want to hear it Our traditions have served us just fine As we've bartered and traded the souls of men Our coffers were filling up fine |