(“The die is cast.”)
I fall to my knees in humble prayer,
Angry and afraid for a nation laid bare, and It breaks my heart to see corruption in every building with stone stairs.
I call out to my God and beg for His mercy. Dear God, my country is dying and burning,
Have you no balm for me?
I want to rise up! To lock arms with my brethren, to take on the cabal that ruins all things reverent.
I want to take the fight to the wicked
And show them no mercy.
Like Samson of old, to topple their temples of heresy.
My heart tells me it’s far past time
to stand up for this journey.
Regardless of price or danger or pain.
I haven’t confused what’s meek for what’s weak;
I know what it means to restrain.
But how do I hope to be meek when my own children’s innocence is assaultingly bleak.
I know I should fight for all that is right
But just saying so makes me a target on a list somewhere and a public blight, in danger of arrest under the patriot act for voicing opinions less opinion than fact.
Wicked man that I am, I presume this is new, that America’s problems are historically few;
That I am the victim in a world gone mad, when I know, deep inside, I’m the most convicted on this lonely pew.
There’s nothing new under the sun:
No wickedness, corruption or sin.
So where do I have room to think my plight different from any Romans or Londoners or ancient Egyptians.
Still, my beloved nation, as fallen as she may be, surely started with God’s intervention and served for a while as an example to every nation across the seas.
I suppose the greatest pain is not that She has lost her salt,
But that – if I’m honest – I know this is my fault.
I stood quietly by as decrepit men took control.
I probably said something to a friend but did nothing worth toll.
I let it into my home and into my heart.
I’m no better than the worst of the cabal.
My God, I repent! Please hear my prayer!
My brothers and sisters in Christ, let’s not just prepare!
We have a duty to do join in this fight;
Surely there’s no greater blessing than to die for what’s right.
That line in the sand that we keep drawing and withdrawing and drawing again: It’s not even there.
It never was. You and I, we were always called to bear arms every time the injustice is even in sight.
We should – no, we must – stand up and fight for what’s right.
Call me a lunatic or a a disturber of peace. Or call me a fundamentalist where fundamentals are least.
But when all that we hold dear at home and at heart is lost to a day in the bygone past, we’ll have no one to blame but the one in the glass.
Something I’ve been too often asked
Is what do I think will the be last straw that will break the camels back;
The thing that will cause the people to rise up and go after these freaks.
I’ll tell you I just don’t know.
We’re all getting old, too comfortable in these soft seats.
Maybe our sons will go fight and die
For what we failed to defeat.
But if that is the path of our once great dream, then I know I’ve already died and this burning hell is my eternal scene.
But no. Just. No. I hope in Christ our father’s hopes are redeemed.
And that hope, it’s not free; it comes with a sting.
These waves of anger and conviction of faith are my call to stand up and accept this with grace.
As God is my witness, I’ll die on this hill,
For tonight is the time,
Not an hour to spare.
Tonight is the time,
If for anything you care.
Tonight is the time
I feel this in this air.
This is our rubicon
If in our heart we dare.
Tonight is the time;
Why are you still sitting there?!
I’m still on my knees in humble prayer
Angry and afraid for my nation laid bare.
Brothers and sisters in Christ, help me, I plead: go with me now and do more than prepare.
The night will be long but all that are dear are aware. Of the things you do and whether you cared.
We didn’t ask for this quest.
But now. Rise up. It’s no longer a request. Alea iacta est.
Romans 14:7-9
For none of us liveth to himself, and no man dieth to himself. For whether we live, we live unto the Lord; and whether we die, we die unto the Lord: whether we live therefore, or die, we are the Lord’s. For to this end Christ both died, and rose, and revived, that he might be Lord both of the dead and living.