Ev'ry time I look into the Holy Book I want to tremble
When I read about the part where the carpenter cleared the temple
For the buyers and the sellers were no different fellas
Than what I profess to be
And it causes me shame to know we're not the people we should be.

My mama taught me how to pray before I reached the age of seven
She said, "There'll come a time when there'll probably be room in heaven"
But I'm feeling kinda of guilty 'bout the number of times
To do what we must do
Oh we forget what he said when we figured that he'd still make room