c. 1982 – Mike Caraway
Hey bishop! Your buildings they look so dark,
And empty, like a lost, abandoned ark,
Well, I won’t call you eminence,
Or kiss your jewelled hand,
No counterfeit motions or legalese,
No, you don’t own this dance, this dance!
Hey bishop! Some body wants to come free,
The good news has stood for peace that you should see,
So you can put the hose to your code of behavior,
The glory ain’t fadin away,
What better way than the members dancin
To celebrate a new day, new day?
Hey pastor! Invite a local band to get down,
You know it will bring lovers out for miles around,
And though they may not let you preach up a storm,
You’ll be rushed out onto the floor,
Some brothers and sisters gonna help you move,
And hallelu-ya right thru the door, thru the door!
Hey guru! With the flowers at your feet,
Thumpin hoe-down is a fine old place to meet,
So jump off your plane and come on over,
The potatoes have jumped on the fire,
Kick off you sandals, ground’ll tickle your toes,
Our sound’ll get you higher, higher!
Hey reverend! Congregation wants to fly,
A committee has been formed to open to the sky,
Well, space can be made and time can be had
For movin out hand in hand,
Strip off the old man, put on the new,
All across the land, cross the land!