I saw seventy-seven people come down to the beach and three of them baptized
I’d never seen that rite done like that at water’s reach, so pleasantly surprised
If timing is everything, I’m so much putty in his hands
If everything’s not relative, his mere whim is a just demand
Deny evolution’s wrong and I’m a monkey’s uncle
May the Truth be revealed in poverty’s dark jungle.
The ocean shows its healing touch by a natural wave and three men dunked back in
The exciting beauty of the body’s form pales in the light of God’s simulator, tracking
If the universe is finite, there must have been a start
Glibly I can tell you it, but you must beat it into your heart
Deny creation and you’re a non-existent thought dream
Free of eternity’s promise, sad you didn’t make the team.