You built a stage, you bought the lights
You cast your vision in the night
You need a crowd to feed the brand
You hold the mic, you wave your hand
You read the metrics, count the gold
Another franchise to be sold
You call it grace, you call it fire
But you’re just building an empire!
You call it leadership, I call it a throne!
You want the followers to call your own!
But the Maker walked with calloused hands
He didn't franchise the promised land!
You want the platform, the power, the crown
But the way of the Master goes down, down, down!
I read the words from ancient days
Before the smoke and mirror maze
He didn't ask for silver rings
He didn't act like earthly kings
He took the towel, He washed the feet
He faced the wolves upon the street
No VIP, no green room door
Just blood and dust upon the floor!
I coveted no man's silver or gold
These hands ministered to my necessities
Show me your calloused hands!
Show me your scars!
You can't buy the Spirit with a corporate card!
Show me your hands!
You call it leadership, I call it a throne!
You want the followers to call your own!
But the Maker walked with calloused hands
He didn't franchise the promised land!
You want the platform, the power, the crown
But the way of the Master goes down, down, down!
Alex · Quellenbeziehungen