The Perfect Church
I think that I shall never see
A church that’s all it ought to be;
A church that has no empty pews,
Whose preacher never has the blues;
A church whose deacons always “deke”
And none is proud but all are meek;
Where gossips never peddle lies
Or make complaints or criticize;
Where all are always sweet and kind
And all to other’s faults are blind.
Such perfect churches there may be,
But none of them are known to me.
But still we’ll work, and pray and plan
To make our church the best we can!
If you could find the perfect church,
Without one fault or smear,
For goodness sake, don’t join that church
You’d spoil the atmosphere.
If you should find the perfect church,
Then don’t you ever dare
To tread upon such holy ground,
You’d be a misfit
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