Wayne Watson
Isaiah 29:13/Jeremiah 51:17-18/Exodus 20:3
My temple is built on wood and of stone
Each space is filled with the things that I own
Idols and gods that call me to bow
I try to be free but there's no freedom nowNo freedom now
The ones I hold dear--Those most precious to me
Some days I set them afloat on an indifferent sea
And these things in first place--They're worth nothing at all
At night in my dreams graven images call
Chorus
And my gods won't let me sleep
And what a man sows that he will reap
I toss and turn at night
I've got places to go, got battles to fight
And my gods won't let me sleeptonight
Ambitions once good--Once noble and pure
Now rule with a rod and I cannot endure
Those bonds I have forged with two will hands
They're not easily torn by the strength of a man
Chorus
No other gods before you--No other holy shrines
Oh, I want to sleep in peace when I lie down
All other voices calling
All of the hands that pull me
Call and demand allegiance to their crown
Chorus
One day recently past, I spent several hours trying to restore my
reputation in a fellow man's eye My anxiety lasted into the
early hours of the morning I realized that my reputation
(whatever there is of one) was ruling me from God's chair
Things, not bad in themselves, can be relentless masters when put
in the place of rule reserved for the Lord