MODERN DAY ENDTIME (THE CHURCH)

One steely night, I walked
Past our "holy" church
I doubt it has borne a cross
I wonder why I have such thoughts



It preaches against iniquity
But soils its hands in inequality
The use of the Bible is like a balm
And it forgets its life is in HIS palm

God doesn't preach religion
That wasn't His reason for Christ
Neither made Him man judge
But offered a shoulder for cries

Each day it preaches the widows mite
It says its better 'than he who gives millions'
But chastise the poor man's might
And praise only those with millions