Is the God that I worship like an eight ball that says yes maybe or no?
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Or like a ouija board that points the direction to go?
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A family looks on forlorn and sad - the outcome will determine faithful or mad
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Temperature soars to 107 - passing hands not yet ready for heaven
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He sees himself floating somewhere overhead
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A haunting apparition high above his bed
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It's me, I think, but I seem to resemble the soul of a ghoul
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The Hand Trembler walks out not a word did he say
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Is his power for real though he failed today?
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The family has scorned him - Hand Trembler denied.
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The life of their son snuffed out as they cried
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You left us in agony - your power is fake
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Though we trusted in you, this answer we'll not take
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Do you have the faith to let God be God - that is the question
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Not a question of outcome but a question of trust
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For he is truly God and we are but dust
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There are things in this life we can never explain
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On the wicked and the righteous fall sunshine and rain
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I am not God, though at times I have tried
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"You don't need him" - the deceiver has lied
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The Hand Trembler
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| Tourniquet |