A man once sat down
A man once broke bread
A man once gave himself up for the dead
So that we might live, without a dread
The man was so great that he rose from the dead
Rose to the father, rose to the spirit
And thus a trinity was born in the fragments,
Guiding mankind as it has grown and adapted
But mankind has now turned astray
Turned away from the man that was cast away and slain
Blood split over the brim for men who care nothing of him
He deserves more! This man was great, holy, and pure
He is humanity's one hope and cure
We can't do it alone, we're just too darn stupid
That sometimes the obvious is ignored to the whim
You can't stare in the face of God and say no
You can't be a whore to sin and say Jesus is your kin
Because man is imperfect, we need to endure
We need a perfectness to be our cure
That perfectness is what we need
And in which we can plead
And in which we can know
That when we die, it's only his love that endures
Not our possessions, not our money, not any delight or keepsake or funny
This may hurt, but keep faith,
For if you are in God, you will be contented and safe
My satire isn't an iron fist,
It isn't some twisted plot to change your life and face
It is merely a pleading, a sermon of truth
To show you to you to be happy and to have nothing to lose
And, in ending, hear my plea:
Don't think me extreme, a pity, or crazy
Don't think I'm calling you old, decrepit, or lazy
A satire is all this is, to tell you what humanity has missed
So go, my friend, and be content,
Not in possessions but in your friends,
Your feelings, your religion, even if it doesn't exist
And remember this: a dense heart remains, but a heart held up by chains
Chains of belongings, tied to conceit, only is shattered and cast to defeat.