﻿Old Song 
(From Memory) 
For two-thousand years with snactified tears 
They’ve told us of a home up above 
But here where we dwell they have made it a hell 
(The while they ytet yodled of love). 
Cho: 
Tho they promise you a heaven 
And they frighten you with hell 
Tho they promise wing and golden harps 
And other things as well 
Tho they say that they would like to 
Put a crown upon your head 
But They wont do a darn thing for you…until you’re dead-dead-dead, 
And now is the time to ring the new chime, 
For I want my heaven right here 
For the one in the sky in the sweet bye and bye; 
Is a santy claus story I fear. 
Cho: etc. 
We have no quarrel with church. 
It is a fine example of coopertative effort. The contributers may sleep under bridges, live in hovels and subsist on second hand food but on The Holy Sabbath they gather among the better surroundings, fixtures and appointments of the House of the Lord. Which, same, goes to show what united effort can accomplish. 
We cannot blame the Servant of the Lord if he wants his congregation to have as good raiment, food and shelter as he himself has. But if in a life time of spiritual leadership he finds his congregation still in rags, living on charity and using the sky for a blanket it is high time that he appraise his stewardship. Rather than have a closed-shop of semi-well-to-do worshipers it might be a better part of valor for the preachers to step out in the by-ways and succor those that are in dire distress, despondency and despair—the cast-outs.