We don’t mind weeds, ‘cause they can’t grow to trees
We don’t mind trees, if we aren’t too high off leaves
It’s an ironic paradox we enter, soughting to be like Solomon
Soul searching for intellectual liberation, only to be shackled slaves of rationality
The Bible just isn’t enough, just a constraining man made manuscript
Scripting man to be lame and tame
But we want the ball in our court, to play our own game
Seeking philosophy from fellows who tickle our liberal liking
Wanting God to fit our terms and conditions
Reading own direction, checking boxes below
Then boom, you and I tune personal stations
Preaching sermons to self that bear no weight
Unable to challenge muscles in brain, but still make us swoll headed
Puffed up off knowledge, embedded in our own lane of logic
Lastly leading to road blocks, with burnt out engine and transmission missing
But we don’t dare trust that driver’s manual unless it benefits us
Using its reference to prove why weed isn’t a want but need
As we find our spirituality in fire burnt gradually
‘Cause everything is good in moderation
So we don’t mind trees, if we aren’t too high off leaves
Acting enlightened while lighting up, not taking life too serious
For if we’re wrong today, Grace gathers us tomorrow
We’re just looking for the hope that answers all our sorrows
Yet the Word of God is out of date like movies borrowed
Create headless philosophies so sleepy and so hollow
Choosing to live then learn, not learn then live
Dancing in dark dungeons with dragons disguised as illuminating computer screens
Searching through images that were once exclusively accessible
But images that play boys won’t affect us, long as weeds don’t grow to trees
And we don’t get caught in self indulging, but watch just enough to learn
Like tossing anatomy books out windows, applying firsthand practices
You find facts, but in process put brain through brutal barbarism
Becoming masters of masochism
Allow those weeds to grow to trees
Acting in Rehoboam’s rebellion
First king of twelve eight
Who rejected wise counsel for wicked guidance
His act of defiance sparked end of an alliance
And History makes like broken records as we reckon to not wreck on
Bulldozing doctrine, seeking ideas it opposes
Going against the current, trying to reverse osmosis
Attempting purification within membrane gratification
Liberation isn’t a garden without borderlines and fences
Those fences are the first line of defence from serpents
Swaying psyche to scribe own scripture
Creating man made manuscripts, though we run away from evangelists
Evoking Gospel centered reasoning
We don’t have a garden bro, we are the garden
Created, cultivated and covered for reason
So don’t you dare allow your curiosity to kill you cat
Clawing and climbing past protection
Like a vine whose villainous hands feel up past barriers
Grow in knowledge, not naivety
Don’t dare let weeds grow to trees
Be mindful of trees making you too high off leaves
Stay low, tend that garden
Turning to the Sower for solutions to sustain soil
We owe Him that much
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