1. |
There's Gonna Be Rain
01:40
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this is the story of a gathering storm:
the clouds pushed and pulled by an unseen hand.
the legion of raindrops changing the mountain’s form,
the charred scar of a lightning bolt’s firebrand.
this is the story of a fragile vessel---
a cask of wine or a casket of pine---
crushed to dust by the mortar and pestle,
mixed with the runoff from a copper mine.
this is the story of defiant joy,
of music making burdens lighter,
the academic, poetic polemics of a poor peasant boy,
composed with a Holy Ghost writer.
this is the story of sixty-two years;
listen to my life flash before your ears.
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2. |
Mighty Fortress
02:52
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A MIGHTY FORTRESS IS OUR GOD
A BULWARK NEVER CEASING
my life was built upon the bedrock of knowledge.
from my very first steps, I was on the path to college.
baptized in the Catholic church, we moved a year after my birth
to Mansfield, Saxony, tryna grow our net worth.
Papa had a copper mine, Mama kept the kids in line.
everyone was fed (which was not a given at this time).
even more incredible, they put me in a Latin school---
five years old, luggin’ books like a little mule.
I did my best, and the rest was ancient history
(well, Middle Ages, if you’re tryna speak specifically).
that fact is an important one, cuz education wasn’t fun.
ain’t nobody wanna get smacked by a monk
at 14, I went to boarding school at a monastery.
misuse of power had become my constant adversary.
I kept my grades up, I kept my head down,
I played the lute a lot and loved to hear the soothing sounds.
A MIGHTY FORTRESS IS OUR GOD...
another year, another city, another school.
Papa kept the money coming, I kept running into rules
do this, not that, read this, write that,
sit down, stand up, it don’t matter if you like that.
regurgitate rhetoric, never carrot, always stick.
and all this time, I’m learning what makes people tick---
the commonfolk, all gettin’ tired’a bein’ stepped on,
they paid their dues and now they’re lookin’ for a refund.
but at the top, they never stop to drop a copper coin.
they own the land, the upper hand, they keep the man employed.
so the poor stay poor and the rich get more
and the rich kids get smarter while the poor ones work harder.
and there I stood, on that bedrock of education,
on the shoulders of giants and the backs of exploitation.
I swear I’m grateful for the life my father gave me,
but I couldn’t wait to fly the coop for university.
A MIGHTY FORTRESS IS OUR GOD...
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3. |
Lightning Bolt
03:05
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gravity is cupid and a match is found
when the seed falls for the ground.
then the sun and the rain come pouring down---
only not too much or the plant will drown.
rinse, lather, repeat indefinitely,
pray that the sapling isn’t something’s delicacy.
weather the storm, the cold and the warm,
give it some time to take root and take form.
like a soldier in a trench, the tree shoots up.
it grows and grows and grows and soon enough
its branches are home to factions of fractious frequent flyers,
birds and bees and hidden empires.
then off in the distance the dark clouds cluster,
ready and raring to blister and bluster.
you stop and wonder, "was it thunder i just heard?"
the lightning bolt always gets the last word.
WHEN THE LIGHTNING STRIKES
THERE ARE NO RULES OR RIGHTS
YOU SAY GOOD NIGHT
TO THE PLOT YOU TRIED TO WRITE
left foot, right foot, pick it up, son.
my old man always pushed me to get it done.
grammar, rhetoric, and logic came first.
I became well-versed and well-rehearsed,
in debate undefeated, unscratched platinum.
talk circles around ‘em like Jericho, I flatten ‘em.
finish with math, science, and music,
God gave me this brain, Papa paid for me to use it.
he wrote to me and showed to me the path I would complete.
his boy would be a lawyer or be out on the street.
so ask me how i came to religious revolt:
you know the answer is a lightning bolt.
WHEN THE LIGHTNING STRIKES…
I was headed back to school after a visit with my folks
when the rain started falling, heavy as a plague of toads.
I hoped the storm would pass over, but then the lightning struck.
i prayed to St. Anne --- “save me, and i will become a monk!”
WHEN THE LIGHTNING STRIKES...
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4. |
The Black Cloister
03:20
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PATER NOSTER… (OUR FATHER, WHO ART IN HEAVEN…)
1:45am, get up, early service at 2
our father who lives in heaven, we live to serve you
we pray for daily bread, we eat the crust instead
we make sure the poor get fed, we pray for the living and the dead
we go out and beg, we sup on simple stew
we sing those old songs, but you said sing a song that’s new
so every day we die with Christ and every day we rise alike
new heart, new voice, new mind, we pray and read to pass the time
EVERY DAY THE SAME, AND EVERY DAY WE CHANGE
WE SUPPLICATE, AND VENERATE, AND SUFFER IN CHRIST’S NAME
SEVEN TIMES A DAY WE COME TO CHURCH TO PRAY
AND EVERY DAY WE CELEBRATE THE GLORY OF CHRIST’S NAME
once a monk, always a monk, that’s the first rule.
stay busy, stay focused, obey like you’re still in school.
no sex, no drugs, no rock’n’roll, no thing to call your own.
read the Scripture at every meal, confess your sins and atone.
understand you’re not worthy to touch the dirt that touched His shoe.
recognize the sin in all you do and the rotten core from which you bloom.
more than food or air, depend on Grace.
if you show up late, fall on your face, wait for the sign, then fall in line
EVERY DAY THE SAME...
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5. |
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KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE CROSS…
when the law says it is done, it’s never done.
you can’t fool anyone---especially not God’s son.
when the law says you can win, it only leads to sin.
so stop and then begin to let the healing in.
but when grace tells you believe, then you are free.
it happens immediately, and it lasts for eternity,
cuz the one who was and is and always will be
has called you family.
when He died on Calvary, He died for you and me.
KEEP YOUR EYES ON THE CROSS...
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6. |
Indulge Me
04:09
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AIN’T NOBODY GONNA STOP ME
I AIN’T EVER GONNA STOP
Johann Tetzel, salty like a pretzel.
fat, doughy face like he ate Hansel and Gretel.
big in the middle, little in the brain.
if you were drowning, he would send rain.
if you were burning, he would send a spark.
if you were lost, he would send the dark.
but if you got a coin, even if it’s copper,
he can getcha outta hell, prompt and proper.
AIN’T NOBODY…
look---Tetzel is a sinner and i don’t pretend i’m different,
but his preaching on indulgences is the work of the serpent.
when Jesus said “repent” he meant to spend your breath from life to death
in the struggle---to turn from sin again and again until we’re rolling in
our graves---only Jesus saves, here I raise my ebenezer.
I give to Caesar what is Caesar's, and I give to the Pope what is his,
but that don’t include my soul, which was never his to save in the first place.
if Leo X was here, I’d say “look at this disgrace---don’t you turn away”
but I can only pray: how long, O Lord, will you hide your face?
how long, O Lord, will you hide your face?
HOW LONG O LORD?
HOW LONG WILL YOU HIDE YOUR FACE FROM ME?
I don’t know how we got here, where the church sells salvation.
forget the penitent and the patient, forget your sense of indignation.
the church will set you free from a place you can’t see.
get out of jail for a fee, pass go, then pass the peace with me.
who can offer assurance outside of Jesus?
our savior bled, our papacy bleeds us.
how can one man interpret Scripture?
how can one man see an infinite picture?
we are just broken clay pitchers, belly itchers,
lowly creatures with distorted features.
a truly contrite soul doesn’t need paper to know it’s saved.
30 silver pieces for your own personal Jesus.
HOW LONG O LORD?...
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7. |
Run and Tell That
02:38
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silence.
take a step back, cuz the next step’s violence.
have patience. we have truth and they have nonsense.
have confidence. they won’t debate cuz they know we’ll stomp them.
my true friends: trust that truth in Scripture will stop them.
c’mon, tell ‘em, Melanchthon.
we are called to renounce possessions.
we are called to pronounce confessions.
search your heart and you’ll see it’s true:
we can’t recant, gotta see this through.
RUN AND TELL THAT (run and tell that from the mountaintops)
RUN AND TELL THAT (run and run 'til the other shoe drops)
RUN AND TELL THAT (sing that shout that spread that word)
RUN AND TELL THAT (don’t you stop 'til the devil’s heard)
the more they threaten, the more I’m sure
that our cause is just, and our logic pure.
every time that they set a letter loose,
I can’t help but think of Jan Hus.
he tangled with Rome a hundred years ago,
they killed him slow in a public show.
still I know my goal in my soul, so sing it, bro:
search your heart and you'll see it's true:
we can't recant, gotta see this through.
RUN AND TELL THAT...
RUN AND TELL THAT (press that print that see it through)
RUN AND TELL THAT (give your life if you have to)
I’m not afraid to die.
I’ve made my peace, so pray for me.
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8. |
Decet Romanum Pontificem
01:06
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we lay the following injunction on every patriarch, archbishop, and bishop,
on the prelates of patriarchal, metropolitan, cathedral and collegiate churches,
and on the religious of every order, wherever they may be stationed:
that in the strength of their vow of obedience
and on pain of the sentence of excommunication,
they shall publicly announce that this Martinus Lutherus and the rest are
excommunicate, accursed, condemned, heretics,
deprived of possessions and incapable of owning them,
and so listed in the enforcement of these words.
three days shall be given,
then the banner of the cross shall be raised and the bells rung.
the faithful Christians, one and all, shall be enjoined strictly to shun these men.
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9. |
RE:
03:00
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Martinus Lutherus: you know that I’m ruthless.
when I speak what the truth is, don’t pretend that I’m toothless.
my bark is my bite---these words that I write,
dark night of the soul to enlighten the plight of the whole world.
cuz I know where the fight is: any place that the light is not.
the situation is fraught, when the church says heaven can be bought.
I don’t wanna tear the church down---holy cow, I don’t want beef.
and I don’t wanna wear a gold crown, but we gotta talk about belief.
on solid rock, not sinking sand---that’s where I stand.
so how ‘bout you?
YOU BETTER RELAX BEFORE YOU RESPOND
BETTER RETHINK BEFORE YOU GO ON
YOU BETTER REACT TO THE FACT THAT MY ATTACK IS
STRONGER THAN YOUR THEOLOGICAL MALPRACTICE
RECONSIDER WHAT COMES OUTCHA MOUTH
REDO THE BLUEPRINT FOR GOD'S HOUSE
RETUNE YOUR LUTE AND YOUR FLUTE
THEN SING A NEW SONG THAT STARTS WITH TRUTH
AND I CAN'T RECANT, SO HERE I STAND
I CAN'T RECANT, SO HERE I STAND
I'm the Reformer, a former friar,
steppin’ to the Pope, new hope against the empire.
strike back, all you commonfolk,
you are not dirt, you are not a joke.
the yoke of Jesus releases and frees us
and casts out demons both small and behemoths.
you don’t need to have money or power.
just turn to him in your darkest hour,
and your faith will save you, while on earth you languish
and your prayers are heard, spoken in any language.
you can call me a heretic, a lunatic, a liar, a crier of wolf,
but no matter what you call it, a violet is blue,
so say what you gotta but respect the truth:
YOU BETTER...
REMOVE YOUR BOOT FROM YOUR POOP CHUTE
I GOT 95 PROBLEMS, I'M'A CALL 'EM THESES
YOU THINK I CAN'T SOLVE 'EM? MAN, THAT'S BULL FECES.
I will be well known in heaven, on earth, and in hell.
and I can't recant, so here I stand.
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10. |
Incognito Mode
02:54
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I THINK I THINK I THINK I (I’M INCOGNITO)
I THINK IT’S TIME THAT I WAS (I’M INCOGNITO NOW)
I THINK I THINK I THINK I (I’M INCOGNITO)
I’M JUNKER JORG NOW (NOTHING’S GONNA STOP ME)
I was traveling home from the Diet of Worms,
silent carriage, coming to terms
with the way went down and the aftermath,
lookin’ for a meal and long hot bath.
when outta the woods erupted four horsemen.
I’m like, “yo driver, stay the course, man”
but he pointed to me with a trembling hand...
exactly as planned.
I AM NOT HIDING I AM (I’M INCOGNITO)
I AM NOT SCARED BUT I AM (I’M INCOGNITO NOW)
I AM NOT HIDING I AM (I’M INCOGNITO)
I’M JUNKER JORG AND (NOTHING’S GONNA STOP ME)
so my friends took me off to the Wartburg Castle,
though I would rather die than abide this hassle.
swing my tassle---school of hard knocks.
ready to rassle, take off my monk frock.
grow my locks and like moss on a rock.
I would rather walk the walk than just talk,
but the fight’s more important,
so I gotta sit dormant
and spill my guts like a criminal informant.
I AM NOT HIDING...
my room is a tower with hidden stairs,
the kingdom of birds, the realm of air.
and the food strange like foreign fare,
rich and salty and my stomach flares.
and the knights are tall and the paintings stare
and high above it all I’m well aware
that I’m fading to sloth like a winter bear...
and I hardly care,
I AM NOT HIDING…
this will be my very own Patmos.
I will give my highest for His utmost.
I will not sit like a pile of compost,
I will never settle for almost.
12 books published in 40-some weeks,
like Mother Mary I’m strong cuz I’m meek.
crushing Goliath with the flick of a wrist,
paper and ink is my Godfather kiss.
and the whole New Testament, I will write it in German.
proof to the people that they are not vermin,
and my enemies hiss, brood of vipers, squirmin’.
but I’m the mongoose with the killer sermon.
I AM NOT HIDING...
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11. |
Don't Twist My Words
03:29
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I’ve been out of town for a while,
hanging out with my boy Frederick at the Wartburg.
and it’s so good to be back in Wittenberg,
but if I’m honest, I’m disappointed.
a faith without love is not enough---it’s a false faith,
like an image reflected in water.
where was the love when you destroyed art depicting Jesus?
I know Carlstadt, Munzter, those so-called prophets from Zwikau…
they’ve gotten y’all excited about change,
and that’s fine---we need to change.
but can’t you see it? it’s no different than Rome.
all that coercion and mob mentality,
it’s no foundation on which to build a church.
when I said, “here I stand,”
I never thought the echos would cause an avalanche.
now let me be clear:
ONLY SCRIPTURE, ONLY FAITH, ONLY GRACE
DON'T TWIST MY WORDS
you will never be safe if you bite the hand that feeds. (did you think about that?)
you will never be free if you feed the band of thieves. (did you think about that?)
I won’t always be around to calm you down.
so take a deep breath, cuz your Daddy’s in town.
ONLY SCRIPTURE…
quick as lightning, my team is taking shape.
Melanchthon---Master Philip---your translation is great.
Nicolaus von Amdsdorf, always quoting Aristotle,
helping me ween these people off the bottle.
Justus Jonas, attorney at canon law, like a cannonball,
I can’t catalogue your work against the demagogue.
and John, my confessor, we went head to head for a while, didn’t we?
but even in our conflict, these words retained our unity,
and they bear repeating.
ONLY SCRIPTURE…
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12. |
Lightning Bolt (Reprise)
01:00
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when the lightning strikes there are no rules or rights.
you say goodnight to the plot you tried to write.
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13. |
LADYBO$$
02:40
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SHE’S KILLIN’ IT, YEAH SHE’S KILLIN’ IT
C’MON, C’MON, SHE’S KILLIN’ IT
her name’s Katharina, Katie if ya nasty.
like a university, she keeps it classy.
an iron fist in a velvet wrapping,
thought I was smart, but my wife surpassed me.
she’s the one with the grace under pressure,
she’s the one that I love and I treasure,
she’s the one that nobody can measure.
now sit back, let the hook impress ya.
Y’ALL KNOW SHE’S KILLIN’ IT, BIG SHOES SHE’S FILLIN’ IT
TRUE LOVE INSTILLIN’ IT, HOME PLATE SHE’S STEALIN’ IT
Y’ALL KNOW SHE’S KILLIN’ IT, BIG SHOES SHE’S FILLIN’ IT
TRUE LOVE INSTILLIN’ IT, DON’T PRETEND YOU AIN’T FEELIN’ THIS
born to a noble who was poor as dirt,
the cloister was foisted on a 5-year-old girl.
at sweet sixteen she became a nun---
nowhere to go, so she married God’s son.
she wrote to me at 23 so I would set her free.
I had the means behind the scenes to do it secretly.
11 nuns were smuggled out like contraband,
but only 10 settled down with a man.
Katharina was stubborn, and picky, too.
she weighed her options and decided I would do.
I said, "I’m too busy, too angry, too old."
she changed my mind a second time like that lightning bolt.
Y’ALL KNOW SHE’S KILLIN’ IT…
...CLAP ALONG IF YA FEELIN’ THIS
Katie V.B., the Lady Luther, ex-wife of Christ and Master Brewer.
truer than any other, smoother than peanut butter, and a six-time mother.
lover, fighter, runaway nun, subject of scandal, scorned and shunned.
ladyboss, president and CEO, now here come the horns---
come on, baby, let’s go!
Y’ALL KNOW SHE’S KILLIN’ IT, BIG SHOES SHE’S FILLIN’ IT
TRUE LOVE INSTILLIN’ IT, HOME PLATE SHE’S STEALIN’ IT
Y’ALL KNOW SHE’S KILLIN’ IT, BANK ACCOUNT SHE’S FILLIN’ IT
SHE DESTROYS THE VILLAINOUS, DON’T PRETEND YOU AIN’T FEELIN’ THIS
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14. |
Nothing More
03:03
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we have that better together love.
rain or shine, whatever the weather love.
not sometime or whenever love,
but that always and forever love.
what does forever mean?
it’s through anything and everything,
whatever life could ever bring,
both the blissful and painful.
we’ll still remain faithful,
even as we change and grow old,
through gain and loss,
you help me keep my eyes on the cross.
I cherish our marriage as a school of character,
a mirror of how Christ cares for us.
I’m grateful we share this love…
THERE IS NOTHING MORE FRIENDLY, NOTHING MORE FREEING
NOTHING COMPETING WITH WHAT WE HAVE
THERE IS NO BETTER COMPANY, NO BETTER COMEDY
NO BETTER UNITY THAN WITH YOU
people ask why we had to elope to tie the rope.
to appease my father’s hope, to rile the Pope,
to make the angels laugh and the devils mope.
but our love is more than a joke...
you remind me of the finer things,
beyond silver and gold and diamond rings,
like how the sun first shines in spring.
a passion ignited inside at the sight of you, my bride.
no other delight is quite like this---
pigtails next to me, a good morning kiss.
I never knew this love could exist.
THERE IS NOTHING MORE CHARMING, NOTHING IS SO DISARMING
NOTHING IS MORE ALARMING THAN TO BE LOVED
I CANNOT HELP EXTOLLING, CUZ THERE'S NOTHING MORE HOLY
THAN HOW YOU LOVE THE WHOLE ME
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15. |
What Is This?
03:24
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out of the frying pan, into the furnace.
out of the dungeon, into the wilderness.
free from the Pope’s tyranny, but not from his influence.
free from the old school, got a church full of truants.
our faith turned mutinous, now we’re standing on ruins.
our faith moved mountains, now we’re climbing a new one.
the dust may be settling, but I refuse to follow suit.
the Devil pollutes the truth and it’s my duty to refute.
I’ve rebuked the peasants, and my own friends as well,
so what’s a prince to a man who stands against the gates of Hell?
they don’t wanna go to war, but the Ottoman Turks are at the door.
they go against the Emperor and expect me to give support.
I’m not a rebel for hire. I answer to someone higher,
even if you put my feet in the fire.
EVERYBODY TRYNA KISS AND MAKE UP NOW
ALL SCARED OF THE TURKS, SO WE’RE FRIENDS NOW?
I CAN HARDLY GET A WORD IN EDGEWISE
PLAY A FOOL’S GAME, WIN A FOOL’S PRIZE
YOU WANNA SHAKE HANDS, BUT
THEIR HANDS ARE DRENCHED IN BLOOD
EVERYBODY TRYNA MAKE A DEAL
BUT I CAN’T DO THAT AND I NEVER WILL
the Emperor listened as we gave him a lesson---
all 15,000 words of the Augsburg Confession.
I was hidden at the Coburg. I relied on Melanchthon,
but it proved to be an impossible position.
the Holy Roman Empire couldn't tolerate a rift,
we wanted to negotiate, we wanted to coexist.
but his mind was closed, clenched like a fist.
and that's how the Emperor made my list.
we can compromise but we cannot tell lies.
why can’t they realize it’s time to take the right side?
EVERYBODY TRYNA KISS AND MAKE UP NOW...
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16. |
We Are Beggars
02:48
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if I make it back home alive, I’ll eat my black hat.
let’s face the facts: I’ve grown tired and fat.
lightning bolts crackle across my chest, my neck, my back.
the spirit is willing but the flesh is under attack.
gotta stay on track like I’ve practiced,
gotta stay woke, gotta preach against wackness.
my de facto approach is nothing short of magic.
if there’s such a thing as a charmed life, then I’ve had it.
DO YOU STAND BY THE WORDS YOU WROTE? (yes I do)
DO YOU STAND BY THE WORDS YOU SPOKE? (yes I do)
DO YOU TOIL UNDER JESUS' YOKE? (yes I do)
five years on a boat, you might know about the sea.
ten years gardening, you might know about the weeds.
but a whole life with Christ is not enough time
to deeply know the divine---
we are beggars, truly, we are beggars.
you and me are beggars, we're just searching for bread.
through the truth we are fed, in the words that were said,
giving life to the dead, even here in the bed.
I pray one day I will rise again.
DO YOU STAND BY...
who would not be sad and afflicted
at the loss of such a precious man as my Martin?
he did great things not just for a city or a single land,
but for the whole world.
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17. |
||||
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keep your eyes on the cross.
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18. |
FWD:
03:28
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one man took a stand,
the only ammo was the hammer in his hand.
and the nails on the door, it was the nails on his Lord
that remind him that God had never failed him before.
he heard creation groan and took a megaphone
so he could make it known: saved by grace alone.
the royal priesthood for all, no collar but you're called
to preach the good news. it's not us but He chooses.
to life say good morning and to death say deuces.
it makes me wanna type away praise lyrics
cuz the Spirit has me feelin' some type of way.
I'm worshipping you. the harvest is plentiful, the workers are few.
it's urgent that the word is being heard
so I'm determined when I'm serving.
that's my sermon, it's most certainly true.
(PRAISE HIM)
WE ARE THE PRIESTHOOD OF BELIEVERS
WE ARE THE BODY OF CHRIST
one man used his voice like a lightning rod.
a call to action, he was asking folks to turn to God
and repave ye the way that Jesus trod.
we have a voice, too: all we say and all we do.
tell the old story, we can make it new.
take it to the world, y’all, not just in the pew.
you will never change the world if you’re silent.
you don’t have to be a saint or self-reliant---
imagine a life of love, then try it.
WE ARE THE PRIESTHOOD...
how many saints does it take
to break the chains and make a change?
how much pain does it take
to shake up and wake up complacent brains?
Jesus, drain the ice from our veins,
Jesus, please, let your grace fall like rain.
Jesus take the reins and reign in the mountains and the plains.
in your Holy name we pray, that we would never be the same.
WE ARE THE PRIESTHOOD...
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Andy and Elise Pokel Minneapolis, Minnesota
Elise Pokel is a pastor, and Andy Pokel is a church musician. They share a joyful, musical, slightly chaotic home in
Minneapolis, MN with their two sons. They have more music available under the name "Foundry Hymnal" on all streaming services.
You can purchase scores for selected songs at thereverbcollective.com
... more
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