| There’s a hundred other uses for breath better spent
|
| Forming the template, for how the band should be
|
| Devising and scheming someone else’s ministry
|
| What were the words?
|
| Did he say Jesus Christ?
|
| Again and again until his name became trite?
|
| What is the extent of all your tests?
|
| What is the measure of their success?
|
| Not acid or base to test in a beaker
|
| Hold your divining rod up to the speaker
|
| Litmus test a piece of paper
|
| You’ll never formulate your maker
|
| With pocketfuls of quips and gurgles
|
| Words that fluff like a handful of gerbils
|
| I heard your yelling above the crowd
|
| Standing back with the arrogant and proud
|
| You say preach, they say rock
|
| You put my God inside a box
|
| What is the extent of all your tests?
|
| What is the measure of their success?
|
| Not acid or base to test in a beaker
|
| Hold your divining rod up to the speaker
|
| Litmus test a piece of paper
|
| You’ll never formulate your maker
|
| The time has come, the night to end
|
| So speak your piece to your circle of friends
|
| They ripped you off, they entertained
|
| They never tried to ease your pain
|
| You thought you knew where God belonged
|
| But songs were sung and the band played on
|
| Litmus test a piece of paper
|
| You’ll never formulate your maker |