ODE TO TBN — Jim Silvers – writer

    He reached his hand right through the tube and picked my pocket bare
    I never saw it coming sitting in my easy chair
    Midst all the fire and brimstone I got frightened confused
    Was Satan knocking on my door, Oh Lord what should I do

    In the passion of the moment, re-living all my sins
    It seemed the quickest fix was just to reach out for my pen
    And sign away my worldly goods, so Satan would retreat
    And let me drink my beer in peace, in my easy seat

    Oh TBN I thank you, for making these house calls
    It keeps us sinners on the edge from far too great a fall
    You are always there from satellites and gilded sets
    Like Heaven’s own Casino where we lay our mortal bets

    Now I may be broke and on the public dole but don’t complain
    I have found a greater master, for my sins no more to blame
    It all depends on just how many seeds a man must sow
    To reap a harvest, that in your dreams, comes back a hundred fold

    So here I am and living in the mercy of His Grace
    Washed in the blood of Mary’s little lamb I have my place
    Secured in heaven for eternity that knows no end
    Where I’ll be drinking frosty Juleps with my buddy Benny Hinn

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