I've met some good and decent folk
Who bore the symbol of the cross
And others who were bent and crushed
Beneath it like some ancient curse
And many more who waved it like
A blinding spotlight in the eyes
Of those they wished to influence
Exploit, and mesmerise
Are you the Messiah?
The one foretold to come?
I am the son of man, he said,
The son of man
Within the strangest schools of thought
There hides a tiny spark of truth
Behind the webs of fantasies
That crack against the test of proof
But the spark can be so dim and veiled
It takes great effort just to see
Much easier to drift aside
And drown in mysteries
We should cherish each of us
For the kinfolk that we are
Salvation lies within ourselves
Not on some quaint exotic star
And the eyes that spend eternity
In searching vainly in the skies
In hopes of finding god
Should maybe cast a glance inside
