Hypocrite

Hey pagan don’t! you’re doing it wrong
This ain’t no way to worship the Lord
Here look at me now how I raise my hands
My voice rising in incomprehensible rant

No no way did I hear you swear
You’re headed to hell for the lack of prayer
Here see these devotions around my neck
How will you be saved you unbeliever, you wretch!

But in my dark room when I shed my disguise
I start living the life that I despise
I catch myself saying the same old lies
Say what does all this signify

That maybe I’m a hypocrite
A tombstone painted in brilliant white
How would I know what is wrong or right
When I know I’m a hypocrite

Am I certain I’m on that book of life
When I’ve run this race can I claim the prize
Would Peter stand by the pearly gates
With a big toothed grin and in expectant wait

Coz Sometimes we’re all like them Pharisees
We’re always shoving down our expertise
Sometimes we be like – holier than thou
And what about love, hey what about love?

What about laying down your life for your friends
That ‘loving your enemy’ predicament
What about love that ascends all things
Bigger than our deeds, our praises and hymns

Then If at all I am a hypocrite
A tombstone painted in brilliant white
Lord, put a brick on my head, It’s alright
But please let not me be a hypocrite

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