In the parking lot of this world,
You sit inside your van,
Reading about the Revelations,
and waiting for God to fix this broken land.

You tell me come on in,
But I’m so weary of your words,.
So many, so many, so many words,
Get in, get in, get in.

And I want to cry that I’m a solution in this world,
With hands and feet that are working, walking,
Give any way they can.

And I want to cry that I’m a solution in this world,
Not a book, not a prayer, not a preacher,
Not a rider in an idle Bible van.

You offer me peace of mind,
God, hope, and more,
If I only wait inside with you,
And watch destruction just outside our door.

But I hear people marching,
Spoons and soup pots in the air.
Clanging and calling me into the streets,
Come on, come on, come on

And I want to cry that I’m a solution in this world…