Thrift Store Jesus Songtext

I got this painting
Of Jesus from a Goodwill
He looked like Richard Marx
But kinda hood-still
And all my friends ask me
What kind of good will
Does this picture do for you
I said it cost me one bill

It's kind of racist
No, it emphasized the faces
And ignored the basic demographics
Based on his location
But I took comfort in it
'Cause there was something in it
It wasn't form or function,
It was busted from a distance
The finished product looked like
How I'd painted it if I'd did it
Novice brushstrokes, Can't help but paint within our limits
It looks bad in the dark
It looks awful in light
I flip the switch
And there's Jesus
Singing Hold on to the Nights

80's Pop star
Wooed-the-ladies Rock star
But who's to say this newbie painter
Ain't still moving God's heart
With pure intentions,
I ain't caused his heart to move an inch
As Jesus's looking at me
Talking like 'who's room is this?'

[Chorus]

It wasn't really Jesus
It looked more like Keith Green
Replaced with Springsteen
When he sings with E Street
He looked like Kenny Rogers,
A younger Kenny Loggins
Sonny Crockett, Barry Gibb
Or… Fonz
He said 'Who's room is this?'
Yeah, you know who's it is
Eyes were on some
Mona Lisa-type look maneuver tricks
Follow my moves,
A pocket full, he spied those smoke and lies
Saw me tell them homeless types
I'm broke and never broke my spine
Followed the shrewdest lies
In movement's time
And who was I?
'Cause all this time,
My suicide is foolish pride
Polluted mind

Unto us each day,
Under this cheap frame,
Forgive my trespasses,
Lead me not in grieve's way
It was my frame of reference,
The crucial objective piece,
The pictures of the great physician
I don't get to see
And that's what I need-
That tiny mustard seed
That ever stayed and grows
And hopes that shows with substance brings
He's in subtle things,
He's in ugly things
Sometimes he's what we see
Obstructing us from what we need

Ah ah,
Ah ah