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America the Beautiful, or so you used to be. Land of
the Pilgrims' pride; I'm glad they'll never see.
Babies piled in dumpsters, Abortion on demand, Oh,
sweet land of liberty; your house is on the sand.
Our children wander aimlessly poisoned by cocaine,
Choosing to indulge their lusts, when God has said
abstain.
From sea to shining sea, our Nation turns away From
the teaching of God's love and a need to always
pray.
We've kept God in our temples, how callous we have
grown. When earth is but His footstool, and Heaven
is His throne.
We've voted in a government that's rotting at the
core, Appointing Godless Judges who throw reason out
the door,
Too soft to place a killer in a well deserved tomb,
But brave enough to kill a baby before he leaves the
womb.
You think that God's not angry, that our land's a
moral slum? How much longer will He wait before His
judgment comes?
How are we to face our God, from Whom we cannot
hide? What then is left for us to do, but stem this
evil tide?
If we who are His children, will humbly turn and
pray; Seek His holy face and mend our evil way:
Then God will hear from Heaven and forgive us of our
sins, He'll heal our sickly land and those who live
within.
But, America the Beautiful, if you don't - then you
will see, A sad but Holy God withdraw His hand from
Thee. |
