The preacher stands and shakes his fists.
Calling out to "God", to show them the way.
"Hallelujah!" He screams from under the tent. This man of God, who hides his intent.
Traveling on his bus, from town to town, his money bags down to the ground.
The Almighty Dollar his driving force.
Under his roof the people pray,that through his words they'll find a way.
As he speaks, they all sing his praise, placing dollars in the trays.
A girl sits in the front row: and as the plate comes she passes it by.
He's watched them all give to his cause, except this girl holding her cross.
He calls out for their aid; his eyes meet hers, and then turn away.
His words mean nothing,his hearts gone astray.
She stands on her own and turns away.
"Sister!" He calls; "do you not hear the word?
God wants you here! Do Not Turn! This is His House! Why do you leave?
His love is in here, it is in me!"
She hears his words, but continues her course.
"Brothers! Sisters! She knows not her way! Sad, so sad, she leaves us today."
She turns on a dime and faces the crowd.
"I have my way, Sir; it is you all who are lost."
Gasps and prayers fill the room.
As the breeze flows through her gown.
"I have listened to you, and waited for your signs, and all I've learned is to bide my time.
For your word is nothing but, the words of a man, whose lost his touch.
You speak of God and all his works,
but it's merely to fund your little church.
The church of man is not the Key; for God is more than what you see.
He is not what you believe; people look for what you need.
We fight and Kill in the name of God!
You speak of others, not knowing who they are!
You all cry there is only one true faith. That only your way, your faith,
Will damn or save a soul.
Who are we to say such things? Who has the right to control our minds?
Our hearts? Or our very souls?
Why Sir, is your way to pray right?
Why not the Buddhist Chant or the Wiccan Rite?"
Who are we all to say that their Gods are not valid or true?"
They have their faiths, like all of you."
"You speak from a wicked tongue, Child!" He calls out now.
"I am sorry for you, having lost your sense, for it is in the Lords' Good Book, and he shows the way.
From these things, those thoughts, which enslave your mind?"
"I too am sorry, Sir, for you stand at your Pulpit, and I at mine.
But I have the love of the world here inside.
So keep your words and this place, for today is a day I will not waste.
The power of divinity has moved my feet. I feel it around me as we speak.
For men like you, wish to keep us weak,
But if I need answers. It is I who must seek.”

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