God makes, and apparel shapes: but it’s money that finishes the man.
– Thomas Fuller
One for the money, two for the show, three times now on your knees, it is a cruel world we are living in that we know.
Dollar bills, a passing thrill, the wind hits your face, down your spine a chill.
Far too familiar is the record on repeat. The track the enemy uses to seal one’s self defeat.
A penny for your thoughts, a nickel for your dreams, he has you in his pocket so it seems.
The cars aren’t fast enough, the house is empty.
The only one impressed anymore is yourself, and your worries are good and plenty.
Gambled away all your goodness while the band played on, one crooked path lies beneath what your paten leather treads along.
God is absent, but the rooms are full of stuff.
The Lord waits in the background wondering when He will ever just be enough.
This world counts on you like you count your change.
One by one we add up to nothing while our priorities are rearranged.
Never will you accumulate what faith pays out.
Never will you earn enough to buy what God freely hands out.
One for the money, two for the show, three times on your knees, where did your loyalty go?
Out the window the enemy convinced you to build, in the house he has you locked in up on the hill?
The higher you build to heaven, the longer the fall. Straight back to the foundation and the meaning of it all.
A penny for your thoughts, a nickel for your dreams, an empty soul that missed it’s call.
What exactly is your salvation worth when all your cash is spent?
Start buying into God’s plan for you and what He really meant.
When He promised you riches beyond understanding.
The private jet is not going where He plans on you landing.
One for the money, two for the show, three times on your knees, life is cruel, what will you have of yours to show?