(One of the best descriptions of Churchianity yet!)
Another Sunday Morning by -David Amavisca
Another Sunday morning comes,
you try to wake up,
but deep inside you really don’t want to.
......But you have to.
Everyone is waiting for you,
Or so you think.
They’re really not,
But you tell yourself that.
Another Sunday morning comes,
you try to wake up,
but deep inside you really don’t want to.
......But you have to.
Everyone is waiting for you,
Or so you think.
They’re really not,
But you tell yourself that.
Stumble to the shower,
put on your most studied look,
casual yet dressy.
After all, you have an image to uphold.
...No time for breakfast,
you can always get coffee on the way.
You need coffee
Because you have to appear awake.
You drive a little fast
Because you’re running late.
Hopefully the cop will take the excuse
That you’re late for church.
It’s the place to be,
Everybody wants to go there.
It’s the best show in town.
If only they knew.
Park in the back lot,
Come running in right in time for the music.
The music hits you like a wave,
Like a hammer.
It’s generic 90s alt-rock,
Sung by a third-rate singer
Who would otherwise be in a cover band
At the nearest casino.
You can’t hear yourself think,
So you turn your attention to the screen.
The words appear larger than life,
Demanding your attention.
Everyone is clapping,
Everyone is smiling,
Everyone is happy,
Because they have to be.
The production is magnificent,
Nothing is out of place.
Everything in perfect time.
It’s all so perfect.
Then the young hip guy
Comes up for the offering.
It’s time for the special,
The big production number.
While they pass the bucket
You think the only things missing
Are dry ice fog,
Lasers and dancing girls.
Our star attraction’s not here today,
So turn your attention to the screen.
You’ll get the word delivered
In glorious high definition.
You wonder why you brought a Bible
Because you don’t really need it.
The two verses you need
Are projected on the screen.
This guy’s really good, you think.
He should be hosting a daytime talk show.
His material is tailored
For people who need to be directed.
All around the crowd is hushed
Taking notes, visibly moved
And then they play the music
And dim the lights.
It’s a picture-perfect ending,
Like all the ones you’ve seen before.
You’ve seen it all before.
You know too much.
You want to break the script.
You want to slash the screen.
You want to smash the idol.
And in the depths of your soul...
YOU.
WANT.
TO.
SCREAM.
05.02.10
David Amavisca
put on your most studied look,
casual yet dressy.
After all, you have an image to uphold.
...No time for breakfast,
you can always get coffee on the way.
You need coffee
Because you have to appear awake.
You drive a little fast
Because you’re running late.
Hopefully the cop will take the excuse
That you’re late for church.
It’s the place to be,
Everybody wants to go there.
It’s the best show in town.
If only they knew.
Park in the back lot,
Come running in right in time for the music.
The music hits you like a wave,
Like a hammer.
It’s generic 90s alt-rock,
Sung by a third-rate singer
Who would otherwise be in a cover band
At the nearest casino.
You can’t hear yourself think,
So you turn your attention to the screen.
The words appear larger than life,
Demanding your attention.
Everyone is clapping,
Everyone is smiling,
Everyone is happy,
Because they have to be.
The production is magnificent,
Nothing is out of place.
Everything in perfect time.
It’s all so perfect.
Then the young hip guy
Comes up for the offering.
It’s time for the special,
The big production number.
While they pass the bucket
You think the only things missing
Are dry ice fog,
Lasers and dancing girls.
Our star attraction’s not here today,
So turn your attention to the screen.
You’ll get the word delivered
In glorious high definition.
You wonder why you brought a Bible
Because you don’t really need it.
The two verses you need
Are projected on the screen.
This guy’s really good, you think.
He should be hosting a daytime talk show.
His material is tailored
For people who need to be directed.
All around the crowd is hushed
Taking notes, visibly moved
And then they play the music
And dim the lights.
It’s a picture-perfect ending,
Like all the ones you’ve seen before.
You’ve seen it all before.
You know too much.
You want to break the script.
You want to slash the screen.
You want to smash the idol.
And in the depths of your soul...
YOU.
WANT.
TO.
SCREAM.
05.02.10
David Amavisca
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