Dull as dirt
You can't assert the kind of light
That might persuade a strict dictator to retire
Fire the army
Teach the poor origami
The truth is in
The proof is when
You hear your heart start asking 'what's my motivation?'
And try as you may
There isn't a way
To explain the kind of change
That would make an eskimo renounce fur
That would make a vegetarian barbecue hamster
Unless you can trace this about-face to a certain sign
Shine
Make 'em wonder what you've got
Make 'em wish that they were not
On the outside looking bored
Shine
Let it shine before all men
Let 'em see good works, and then
Let 'em glorify the Lord
Out of the shaker and onto the plate
It isn't karma
It sure ain't fate
The would make a Deadhead sell his van
That would make a schizophrenic turn in his crayons
Oprah freaks
And science seeks a rationale
That shall excuse this strange behavior
When you let it shine
You will inspre
The kind of entire turnaround
That would make a bouncer take ballet
Even bouncers who aren't...
Happy
But out of the glare
With nowhere to turn
You ain't gonna learn it on 'What's My Line'
Recorded by the Newsboys. Lyrics by Steve Taylor.
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