Babylon

Dear Babylon I heard from a friend you're doing fine You cast him out for asking questions that you didn't like but I guess that's just how it goes Maybe you're wrong When giving people bread and wine Your teachers hurt them and you tell them that it's all in sight of A plan that you don't even know So you're Christ's own body? I think you're out of shape again Built a wicked city with the richest men And called ourselves their kin What's going on? You said we stood for equal rights You don't see color but you're only kind to other whites Like Jesus had an English nose Oh, Babylon I think we're speaking different tongues You're building towers like the battle's not already won And reaping seeds you never sowed So you're Christ's own body? I think you're out of shape again Built a wicked city with the richest men And called ourselves their kin I'm not sure how to fix the problem It's not my job to have the answers anyway I guess I'll stay here waiting (I'll sit here waiting on you) (I'll sit here waiting) Dear Babylon I haven't given up all hope I figured I should try and so I wrote this little note I hope I see you all at home Mm, oh Babylon