Two thousand years of oppression Is the view
that's held today He's the cause of all
wars He's the author of all pain No one
will hear him out He's the last minority No one has a problem with Jesus Christ Only those who invoke His name All others
have instant forgiveness But he will have to
pay For the intolerant claims of salvation Only attained in his one way Two or three
catchphrases will be Enough to close most
doors Muted whispers of concern For
those who walk into his doors Forever
outside of the fashion culture Around which
the world revolves Increasingly quaint and
inscrutable Are how his standards will be
regarded The cyanide laden Kool-Aid cup Will be thrust into his hand Amidst the
laughter and the mockery The time to make
the stand
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