Two thousand years of oppression   Is the view that's held today   He's the cause of all wars   He's the author of all pain   No one will hear him out   He's the last minority   No one has a problem with Jesus Christ   Only those who invoke His name      All others have instant forgiveness   But he will have to pay   For the intolerant claims of salvation   Only attained in his one way   Two or three catchphrases will be   Enough to close most doors   Muted whispers of concern   For those who walk into his doors      Forever outside of the fashion culture   Around which the world revolves   Increasingly quaint and inscrutable   Are how his standards will be regarded   The cyanide laden Kool-Aid cup   Will be thrust into his hand   Amidst the laughter and the mockery   The time to make the stand