The Sleepwalking Nation

We are the spiritually dead, the dazed and confused

The few sheep that fled, and at best only used

We are would-be warriors

And half-taught teachers

 

We are for whom the war's waged, the future of sin

Life-sized props on a stage, unsure who will win

We are religious possessions

And doubting believers

 

We are asking too much, for some shred of proof

For some divine touch, that might rally our youth

We are an unformed army

One number of many

 

We are a Pastor's frustration

Some cosmic joke or creation

And until you reach out

We're the sleepwalking nation