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
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