Why go to church and sing our lies? What good is the praise of a song obliged? Obliged to worship, to speak not cry, of the Son of God for whom death died?

And we go to church and sing these songs, but all we are, are sounding gongs. We pretend that we know right from wrong, wearing masks to hide our devil prongs.

And we think just our community gives us immunity, to be spiritual lepers but judge with impunity. We speak of witness but we shun opportunity, and we fail brothers and God in our mission for unity.

See, that's a church that has no Christ: just makeup on the face of vice, a place where we curse in silver tongues and then play nice, acting lions when we should be mice.

Because it’s the glory of God for which Christ died, a glorious God that we denied, yet from our throats were our own hands pried, just so in God we could confide. Just so in Christ we could abide.