Stealing, stealing, stealing,
Stealing, stealing.
Stealing in the name of the Lord.
My father's house of worship,
Has become a den of thieves;
Stealing in the name of the Lord.
They fed our mothers with sour grapes,
And set our teeth on edge;
Stealing in the name of the Lord.
Strike the hammer of justice,
And set my people free,
Strike the hammer of justice,
Or let my people be.
They tell us of a heaven,
Where milk and honey flow;
Stealing in the name of the Lord.
They said this place called heaven;
The rich man cannot go.
Stealing in the name of the Lord.
Yet the reverend drives a fancy car,
Buys everything tax-free,
The people have to sacrifice;
To give in charity.
My father's house of worship,
Has become a den of thieves;
Stealing in the name of the Lord.
(..)
Stealing, stealing, stealing,
Stealing, stealing.
Stealing in the name of the Lord.
Stealing, stealing, stealing,
Stealing, stealing.
Stealing in the name of the Lord.
A strong comment here is specific: the phrase you keep hearing, the mood you come back for, or the reason this song stays in rotation.
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