Preachers and players
Are on the stage
The hymns have been
So cleverly arranged
The deacons and the elders come
To referee the games
But the praises of the Word
Are scarcely mumbled
Your golden-plated pageantry
Is all the rage
But you seldom speak of Jesus
It's as though He's changed His name
So, you've traded in your freedom
For the idols of the agе
And the little ones around you
Start to stumblе
You're satisfied with blindness
While you pretend you want to see
Your livin' river died in dryness
When the Spirit was quenched
And bereaved
You know we've got to melt
So He can mold
But is that clay that you've indwelt
Growin' hard and cold
And instead of findin' wisdom
Have the years just found you old
Like a barren field that will not yield
Though it rains past June
The mirror has been held
Before your face
Reflecting imperfection
That you thought you had erased
Yes, but instead, you see the images
Have only been misplaced
And where once stood walls of worship
You're just a stained-glass tomb
You're satisfied with blindness
But you pretend you want to see
Your livin' river died in dryness
When the Spirit was quenched
And bereaved
You're satisfied with blindness
Ooh, do you want to see
All the love and all of the kindness, yes
That you've locked away
Do you still hold the key
Satisfied with Blindness was written by Terry Talbot.
Satisfied with Blindness was produced by Al Perkins.