So where is your god,
where does he sit?
Mine is in heaven,
and does what He sees fit.
Mine isn't made up of metal,
nor of silver or gold.
He is the only God that I know,
who can't be bought or sold.
Mine speaks of faith,
and of life everlasting.
Yours can't say a word,
with lips covered in casting.
Mine sees the lost world,
the poor and the meek.
Yours can't see anything,
for its eyesight is weak.
Mine hears the suffering,
the cries in the dark.
Yours hears not one whimper,
for its ears, they are stark.
Mine can smell the incense,
of the true sacrificial Lamb.
Yours reeks of deceit burning,
in the lake of the damned.
Mine has hands that reach far,
wide, and twice as deep.
Yours are tied up with its lies,
that summons up the lost sheep.
Mine has feet that will run,
and catch up to yours one day.
Yours will be cast in hell's fire,
and you too will follow the way.
So, turn from your false god,
and whatever your idols may be.
Put your trust in the Lord, my God,
and from the flames you'll be free.
Psalm 115 1-9