The Pharisee

A child sang of timeless stories
About a King and his bride in pain
His love for her stretched across the seas
Yet her wild heart led her astray

Time again she faced her end
Crying out to her beloved
When all was lost and nothing left
He returned to keep his promise

Beautiful satin gowns
For his beautiful faithful Bride
A filling feast where all would feast
From far and wide
A home to keep her safe
With no fear of wicked thieves
Who storm and raid and overcame
Her in her darkest dreams

I await the promise of my king
Whom no words can describe
My king will rescue me in stride
Just as the serpents head was cut
So will it be for Rome
Then finally
We will win back our home

Here I stand
Face to face
With my mighty King
The one for whom I have lived
This man he claims to be
He tells me that he is he
And my heart is rotten and cannot see
And what I do I do not for me
But devils in their devilry

Who do you think you are?
That you would free me from slavery
From which I have already been made free

You are not what you claim to be

You are not what you claim to be

The King to lead us in prosperity
When the glory days flowed with wine
And this Kingdom used to be raised high
Mount Zion to shine
For all to adore
And our enemies
Would mock us no more

No more

Our hope is weak
But it still stands
And it will not stand for this blasphemous man

Who do you think you are?
To mock who we know we are
The bride for whom our King would die
To keep his promise to mankind