Two thousand years of oppression

Is the view that's held today

He's the cause of all wars

He's the author of all pain

No one will hear him out

He's the last minority

No one has a problem with Jesus Christ

Only those who invoke His name



All others have instant forgiveness

But he will have to pay

For the intolerant claims of salvation

Only attained in his one way

Two or three catchphrases will be

Enough to close most doors

Muted whispers of concern

For those who walk into his doors



Forever outside of the fashion culture

Around which the world revolves

Increasingly quaint and inscrutable

Are how his standards will be regarded

The cyanide laden Kool-Aid cup

Will be thrust into his hand

Amidst the laughter and the mockery

The time to make the stand