It Isn't the Church - It's You
If you want to have the kind of a church
Like the kind of a church you like,
You needn't slip your clothes in a grip
And start on a long, long hike.
You'll only find what you left behind,
For there's nothing really new.
It's a knock at yourself when you knock your church;
It isn't the church--it's you.
When everything seems to be going wrong,
And trouble seems everywhere brewing;
Just take a look at yourself and say,
"What's the use of being blue?"
Are you doing your "bit" to make things "hit"?
It isn't the church--it's you.
It's really strange sometimes, don't you know,
That things go as well as they do,
When we think of the little--the very small mite--
We add to the work of the few.
We sit, and stand round, and complain of what's done,
And do very little but fuss.
Are we bearing our share of the burdens to bear?
It isn't the church--it's us.
So, if you want to have the kind of church
Like the kind of a church you like,
Put off your guile, and put on your best smile,
And hike, my brother, just hike,
To the work in hand that has to be done--
The work of saving a few.
It isn't the church that is wrong, my boy;
It isn't the church--it's you.
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