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You look just like the world, nothing
different do I see, for you
dance to all the same songs, watch the
same things on TV. no I
see no transformation, I see
only replication, has your
faith gone on vacation or
are you just like me? if I
look inside your closet will I
find bones just like mine, should I
want the things you offer or
believe your store-bought lines, that my sins are any different or are
dirtier than yours, or is
sin simply a suit coat; it
depends on how it’s worn? tell me
Jesus is the answer when you
are a living question, if the
blood of Jesus Christ left such a
little seen impression on the
life you lead or say you do
that looks so much like mine, tell me
why I’d even want something from
eyes that are so blind? it’s
apparent you don’t see the lie that
you are showing me, when you
tell me that your different, when your
a facsimile of the
very thing you claim to hate, the
thing I should hate too, tell me
how to win a game in which you
trample all the rules. so tell me
should I feel inspired or maybe
should I be dismayed when the
players take the field only to
break the rules they’ve made? can I
say that I’ve seen Jesus when I
look into your eyes, will I
see the truth, the whole truth, or
see nothing more than lies? if a
claim is made that you have faith but
nothing to show for it, when
you clothe yourself in vanity, then
ask me to ignore it. if you
will not set yourself aside, let
Jesus do the talking, why should I
follow the steps that
hypocrites are walking?
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