So many things I’d do tonight, if God Himself stood here right now
I would not look Him in the eye, I would not cower ‘fore and bow
I would respect Him though I’ll say, I would not brashly disavow
I’d give Him chance to tell, explain, the things He’s done, this I’d allow
Halls of hatred haunt the helpless, where is Your Divine relief?
People starve for no good reason, yet you demand their belief
You want these converts for the ones you send as your own missionary
When they’re better served by those who visit them as commissary
Times evolved, it’s over now
We do not see things eye to eye
I will speak the truth of You
Until the day I choose to die
My hearts been tough, I’ve prayed enough, it’s time You’re told just Who You are
Benevolent Creator, no, each wound You’ve made’s become a scar
I don’t care if it is fair, for nothing that You made is such
I speak the truth, confession booth, and You’re no more my spirit’s crutch