"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!

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