religion is a tired old drum.
our ears hear its dark muffled sound,
but our feet cannot dance to its beat,
and our hearts cannot sing to its song.
neighbours don't understand what we do.
strangers don't care what we do.

we want new life with new rhythm,
and knowing of science and art,
make grand and lovely new drums.
these drums our ears hear quite well,
yet our feet cannot move,
and our hearts are still quiet.

it is a time without synchronicity,
when the events of our lives,
don't fit the new plan.
we are an exiled people,
returning home to rebuild the temple,
discovering its plan in the dust.

we will open our hearts,
and turning in the right way,
see, hear, and understand
that the need of our neighbour,
and the plea of the stranger,
are the true heart beats of our precious old drum.