America The Beautiful
by Judge Roy Moore
America the Beautiful, or so you
used to be.
Land of the Pilgrims' pride, I'm glad they'll
never see
Babies piled in dumpsters, Abortion on demand,
Oh, sweet land of liberty, your house is built on
sand.
Our children wander aimlessly,
poisoned by cocaine,
Choosing to indulge their lusts, when God has said
abstain.
From sea to shining sea, our Nation turns away
From the teaching of God's love and a need to
always pray.
So many worldly pastors tell
lies about our Rock,
Saying God is going broke so they can fleece the
flock.
We've kept God in our temples, how callous we have
grown,
When earth is but His footstool and Heaven is His
throne.
We've voted in a government
that's rotting at the core,
Appointing Godless Judges who throw reason out the
door,
Too soft to place a killer in a well deserved
tomb,
But brave enough to kill a baby before he leaves
the womb.
You think that God's not angry
that our land's a moral slum?
How much longer will He wait before His judgment
comes?
How are we to face our God from Whom we cannot
hide?
What then is left for us to do, but stem this evil
tide?
If we who are His children will
humbly turn and pray,
Seek His holy face and mend our evil way,
Then God will hear from Heaven and forgive us of
our sins,
He'll heal our sickly land and those who live
within.
But America the Beautiful if you
don't, then you will see,
A sad but Holy God withdraw His hand from thee.