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Twenty five white robed students walking under narthex structure
File past the priests, butterflies in stomachs empty from a pre-mass fast
Candles in hand, take front row seats.
Twenty five infant christians at the altar called to confess what they believe
Cameras flash and mothers cry, can they se a new light in wide eyes
From their overflowing pews on this Easter Sunday eve
No howling wind no tongues of fire back to our pew we retire.
to an ovation so loud from the standing room only crowd.
Three years go by and the question's raised, just who is that God you praise.
Finding the line ain't so fine between going to church and being saved
This is my confirmation day
This is my confirmation day
This is my confirmation day
We should all be serving the same God
Shouldn't we?
We are not all serving the same God
Are we?