Come on down.  Come to the show.
It’s fine entertainment.  Give it a go!

There’s something for everyone, except the senior crowd.
Loud music, sensuality . . . really, anything’s allowed.

We don’t correct anyone.  We don’t mention sin.
We really don’t care how many souls we win.

Forget about hymns–we’ve tossed them out.
Redundant praise choruses is what it’s about.

The praise team leads and be-bops on stage.
You ought to see it; it's all the rage!

The song’s on the screen.  Some squint with a frown.
They scarcely keep up as we stand up and sit down.

We can bump; we can jump; we can jiggle and grind.
All semblance of order we have left behind.

Don’t worry about truth.  We’ve removed all restraints.
The righteous object, but never mind the saints.

We can change and do anything we want to do.
Don't worry 'bout the elders; they haven't a clue.

We must compromise to get folks in the door.
If somebody leaves, we will just invite more.

What about Jesus?  Oh, He’s a cool dude.
But all that repentance could ruin the mood.

Come on down.  Come to the show.
You may die in your sin, but what a way to go!