The Losing Team

O land of enchantment
You cast your spell
Having law without mercy
You’ll burn in hell

A winning team
Is not what you’ll see
Because you refused
To come to me

I came as your Father
Redeemer and Groom
But you thought you could sweep me
As with a broom

You’ve pooled your resources
And made your plan
But you wouldn’t trust
In the Son of Man

Now I stand as the Coach
Quarterback and Receiver
But only for those
Who are true believers

The game being played out
Is in my hands
You should have believed!
In the Son of Man