The Good News by Sara Thomsen

 Oh, the gospel, the good news
Walk a mile in somebody else's shoes
Somebody hungry—get some food on their plate
Pray for those who put you down, love the ones you hate
Oh, love the ones you hate

Down in Knoxville, Tennessee
Sunday morning, sanctuary
A man pulls out a loaded gun from a guitar case
Bullets fly in sacred space
Oh, blood on lace
A weapon of hate
In a masquerade
As an instrument of song and praise
Played on a Sunday morning in a house of grace

And the children were singing, "The sun'll come out tomorrow"
Shine it's light, clear away the sorrow
But memories, you cannot sweep away
Open fire on that day of the children's play

Oh, the gospel, the good news
Walk a mile in somebody else's shoes
Somebody bound in chains—set them free
Look out for the last and the least, love your enemy
Oh, love your enemy

You can open up the holy book, pick out a phrase
Like lifting a loaded gun from a guitar case
Pull on the trigger—the scripture flies
Somebody nods their head, somebody dies
Oh, somebody cries
Bullets fly, all dressed up in disguise
As the word of love and life from the Giver of Our Days
Another heart shot down in a house of grace

And the children are singing, "This Little Light of Mine...
Hide it under a bushel, no, I'm gonna let it shine"
And silently comes a shadow of doubt
Somebody dims their light, another lamp goes out

Oh, the gospel, the good news
Walk a mile in somebody else's shoes
Somebody thirsty—get 'em water to drink
Pray for those so sure they know just what the good Lord thinks
Oh, what the good Lord thinks
Pray for those so sure they know just what the good Lord thinks