Of the Church and the Steeple

A religulous song

She splayed her hands out
In a rueful shape.
We’ll play the game now
Not for Christ’s sake.
My soul’s become vacant
Every Sunday.
I need a single leader
Who’ll let us pray.

There goes the church.
There went the steeples.
There are no more doors
Because we’ve lost all the people.
There was the church.
And that was the steeple.
Behind the wooden doors,
I remember all the people.

Drink a cup of blood,
But do you know why?
Take a piece of bread
From that robed guy.
Now please, tell me the point
Of your rituals.
If it means nothing to you,
Then, tell me to who it will.

There goes the church.
There went the steeples.
There are no more doors
Because we’ve lost all the people.
There was the church.
And that was the steeple.
Behind the wooden doors,
I remember all the people.

Here’s the church.
Here’s the steeple.
Now, come on people.
If you say you have faith.
If you say you believe.
No one you deceive.
Church.  Steeple.  Doors.  People.
Truth deceives.  Faith believes.

With the olive branch
You hold too a torch.
It’s the chapel doors
That you will scorch.
You rise up on wings
Of equality.
Your talons make it equal
For most everyone but me.

There goes the church.
There went the steeples.
There are no more doors
Because we’ve lost all the people.
There was the church.
And that was the steeple.
Behind the wooden doors,
I remember all the people.