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Bearer of the Light (get to know your church visitors)

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(music and lyrics by Hugh Emerson; dedicated to SSBC)

One morning I arrived at church much earlier than usual; 
I'd gone to bed so early, I was up with time to spare. 
I found the door unlocked, but only one man was inside; 
I asked his name; he hesitated, then at last replied, 

"Please pardon if I took a moment pondering your question, 
but I had to stop to think so I would get this right: 
I'm known across the Universe by many diff'rent titles, 
but my favorite means 'the bearer of the light'." 

Immediately, I sensed this man was very far from usual; 
who could this stranger be that he would answer in this way? 
He had a strange authority, despite his shocking claim; 
Excitedly, I pressed him once again to tell his name. 

"I know the thoughts of men and know the company of angels; 
I walk side-by-side with many who attend this hall; 
I've met all Christian workers face-to-face when they have problems, 
And I'll offer my eternal home to all." 

That really was a thrill, for I could tell he wasn't lying, 
and I wished this handsome stranger would admit his famous name, 
But something he said bothered me: I asked if he'd implied 
He met with Christians face-to-face while walking side-by-side. 

"I never said I walk beside the Christians who have problems, 
So it seems that you have caught me in an oversight. 
You must have seen right through me, so I've got to go, 
But how'd you know 
That Lucifer means 'bearer of the light'?" 
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The New Pastors

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(music by Hugh Emerson, lyrics from the Bible; dedicated to TJ)

Jeremiah 23:1-4 
1 Woe be unto the pastors that destroy and scatter the sheep of my pasture, saith the LORD. 
2 Therefore thus saith the Lord God of Israel against the pastors that feed my people: Ye have scattered my flock, and driven them away, and have not visited them. Behold, I will visit upon you the evil of your doings, saith the LORD. 
3 And I will gather the remnant of my flock out of all countries whither I have driven them and will bring them again to their folds; and they shall be fruitful and increase 
4 and I will set up shepherds over them which shall feed them, and they shall fear no more, nor be dismayed, neither shall they be lacking, saith the LORD. 

(five-fold Amen) 
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John 1

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(music by Hugh Emerson; lyrics from the Bible)

John 1
1 In the beginning was the Word
etc.
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The Asymptotic Approach to Mr. Right

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(music and lyrics by Hugh Emerson; dedicated to LH)

You're searchin' for that perfect man; 
Well, honey, find him if you can! 
I think you'll find he's out of sight; 
What I'm talkin' about is the asymptotic approach to Mister Right. 

When lookin' for some male ideal, 
You'll find that such a man ain't real. 
He's out there in the infinite; 
Don't go spendin' your life in the asymptotic approach to Mister Right. 

You're clingin' to that stubborn hope, 
A-reachin' for that asymptote: 
That someone who's somewhere and somehow is your white knight. 
But, even if you find you someone, 
There ain't no way that you're ever done 
With the asymptotic approach to Mister Right. 

An asymptote's a thing in math 
That's like a limit to your path; 
You think you'll get there and be through, 
But you'll never be reachin' the asymptote, it's impossible to do. 

I'll tell you how this term connects: 
When graphin' y's one over x, 
You never reach the axes quite; 
You can only get close, like the asymptotic approach to Mister Right. 

You're clingin' to that stubborn hope, 
A-reachin' for that asymptote: 
That someone who's somewhere and somehow is your white knight. 
But, even if you find you someone, 
There ain't no way that you're ever done 
With the asymptotic approach to Mister Right. 

I've warned you now, I hope you heard, 
And listened to my every word, 
'Cause I've been there, and I can cite 
What a wastin' of time is the asymptotic approach to Mister Right. 

To do the best thing that you could, 
Go find you Mister Pretty Good. 
You ain't yourself the perfect mate; 
What would you ever do with a perfect man when you really ain't that great? 

Stop clingin' to that stubborn hope, 
And reachin' for that asymptote 
(That someone who's somewhere and somehow is your white knight), 
But go on out and find you someone, 
'Cause there's no way you'd ever be done 
With the asymptotic approach to Mister Right. 
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Shade of Magenta

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(music and lyrics by Hugh Emerson; dedicated to EB)

I used to think that love was blue, 
But that's before I found with you 
The kind of thing God had in mind 
When human feelings were designed. 
Sad love affairs would make me blue, 
But that was before me and you: (now) 

Love is blue no more; it's a shade of magenta: 
A touch of red hot, a bit of cool blue. 
The best part of me with the best that's in you 
Make the happy hue of a sunrise in winter; 
That warm kind of glow when the long night is through 
Reminds me of love when it's me loving you. 

If love had color, green was it; 
Love grew and flourished for a bit, 
Then, as its life was winding down, 
Became a bitter, brittle brown; 
But if our love could just be seen, 
It wouldn't appear jealous green. 

At times I thought love must be red, 
But that's before I found instead 
The kind of love worth waiting for: 
There's passion, yet there's so much more. 
Bad love affairs made me see red, 
But now, in my heart and my head, (true) 

Love is red no more; it's a shade of magenta: 
A touch of red hot, a bit of cool blue. 
The best part of me with the best that's in you 
Make the happy hue of a sunset in summer; 
That warm kind of glow when the long day is through 
Reminds me of love when it's me loving you. 
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Limbo

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(music and lyrics by Hugh Emerson; dedicated to MWH)

Way down-a Caribbean way's a kind of game they play: 
Hold stick and go under it--it's like our love today 
I'll show you why, now: 
There down-a Caribbean way's a funny thing to do: 
Go low, bending over backwards, like I did for you, 
And there they call it 

Limbo, 
We're talking limbo, 
It's both a game you play 
And where you stay 
When halfway in the middle of 
A permanent or an ending love. 
I say I am ready for us to last; 
You make your mind up. Please do it fast, 
And be my ex, or be my wife, 
So I can go on with my life. 

You don't live there, you live here, so you have no excuse. 
Stop playing these games with me; it's the worst kind of abuse! 
I'll call the hot line! 
Up here in America we like it cold or hot; 
We say, "when in water closet, go or get off the pot", 
But just don't stay in 

Limbo, 
We're talking limbo, 
It's both a game you play 
And where you stay 
When halfway in the middle of 
A permanent or an ending love. 
I say I am ready for us to last; 
You make your mind up. Please do it fast, 
And be my ex, or be my wife, 
So I can go on with my life. 

If you think that it is best that our affair should end, 
I hope that you don't expect I can still be your friend. 
Don't even ask me! 
I still think that it is best that we two should be one, 
And I hope that someday will the damage be undone 
From all the time in 

Limbo, 
We're talking limbo, 
It's both a game you play 
And where you stay 
When halfway in the middle of 
A permanent or an ending love. 
I say I am ready for us to last; 
You make your mind up. Please do it fast, 
And be my ex, or be my wife, 
So I can go on with my life. 

You said you would be with me until the end of time; 
That kind of a promise leaves no room to change your mind, 
But here we are in 

Limbo, 
We're talking limbo, 
It's both a game you play 
And where you stay 
When halfway in the middle of 
A permanent or an ending love. 
I say I am ready for us to last; 
You make your mind up. Please do it fast, 
And be my ex, or be my wife, 
So I can go on with my life. 

If you fin'lly leave me, maybe it is just as well; 
We won't be in Limbo, so feel free to go to... 
Someplace that isn't 

Limbo, 
We're talking limbo, 
It's both a game you play 
And where you stay 
When halfway in the middle of 
A permanent or an ending love. 
I say I am ready for us to last; 
You make your mind up. Please do it fast, 
And be my ex, or be my wife, 
Just let me go on with my life! 
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The Night's a Little Longer

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(music and lyrics by Hugh Emerson; dedicated to MWH)

The night's a little longer, 
The rain's a little stronger, 
But my life's a whole lot wronger 
Since you left me. 
My purpose is defeated. 
I lost something I needed; 
I feel so incompleted 
Now you're gone. 
I call out to God, but it's out of His hands; 
He can't do a thing when you're out of His plans for you. 
We should be together, I know that He wills it, 
But if hope dies, then I won't be the one who kills it. 
Come back and be mine only; 
I don't care for being lonely anymore! 
Make it now or never: 
Say you're mine forever! 
There's no need to sever 
Something as good as us. 
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Stacey

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(music and lyrics by Hugh Emerson; dedicated to SAW)

Love songs were never sung. 
(Why was it never done?) 
No one had written one 
for a Stacey. 
Could no one find the time? 
Could no one find the rhyme? 
Was no one fond as I'm 
of a Stacey? 
The songs for Mary, Miss Molly and Marie 
Are fine for others, but meaningless to me, 
For only Stacey deserves my zealous love, 
And Juno, Athena and Venus feel jealous of 
One who's more heavenly, 
One who was meant for me: 
Thank God for sending me 
My Stacey. 
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Personal Plan

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(music and lyrics by Hugh Emerson; dedicated to HNE)

I want to walk in Your way, Lord; 
I do the best that I can, 
But when I stumble, 
Sometimes I tumble 
And know I must be out of Your plan. 
I need Your personal guidance. 
I know how right it would be, 
So if You've penned it, 
I wish You'd send it: 
Advice You've written for me. 

I want a gilt-edged, guaranteed, genuine agenda from God. 
I'd like a love-it-or-leave-it list of loving lessons lately lettered in 
the lap of the Lord. 
Oh, what a thrill: 
Knowing His will! 
I hope I know enough to get me by until 
I get my personal plan from the pen of the Prince of Peace. 

I never ask You for much, Lord-- 
I've got so much from You now. 
You're so deserving, 
It's You I'm serving, 
But need a little help with the how. 
I'll go wherever You say, Lord, 
I'll do just like You command; 
So write it down for me: 
What You'd have me be; 
Tell me what You have planned. 

I want a gilt-edged, guaranteed, genuine agenda from God. 
I'd like a love-it-or-leave-it list of loving lessons lately lettered in the lap of the Lord. 
Oh, what a thrill: 
Knowing His will! 
I hope I know enough to get me by until 
I get my personal plan from the pen of the Prince of Peace. 

I read Your words in the Bible; 
They comfort, calm, and console, 
But though terrific, 
They're not specific, 
And don't address my part of the whole. 
My name's not there in Your book, Lord; 
I haven't yet heard Your voice, 
But I won't worry, 
I know You'll hurry 
And help me make the right choice. 

I want a gilt-edged, (gotta be engraved in gold) guaranteed, genuine agenda from God (give it gobs of graphics). 
I'd like a love-it-or-leave-it list of loving lessons lately lettered in the lap of the Lord (lay it on the line). 
Oh, what a thrill: 
Knowing His will! 
I may not know it all, but I will serve Him still; 
Just want my personal plan (please, I pray) 
Concoct it quick as you can (I'll pay the postage) 
Put down my personal plan with the quill of the King of Kings! 
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Puddles of Oil in the Cattails

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(music and lyrics by Hugh Emerson; dedicated to LJ)

There are puddles of oil in the cattails-- 
Something is terribly wrong at the pond! 
Where is the song of the living? 
Why are the creatures that lived here all gone? 

Worst of environmental diseases, 
Man is still free to do as he pleases-- 
Causing the worst of toxic releases, 
Like puddles of oil in the cattails. 

There are men on the scene wearing suits now, 
Ordering others to clean up the site; 
No one gives thought to the homeless. 
Why be so legal when you can be right? 

Only concerned with his absolution, 
Not giving thought to make restitution, 
Man is the problem. What's the solution? 
Can we know? 

Worst of environmental diseases, 
Man is still free to do as he pleases-- 
Causing the worst of toxic releases, 
Like puddles of oil in the cattails. 

There are men on the scene wearing boots now, 
Walking away from the scene of the crime, 
Tracing the path of destruction. 
Why couldn't someone have been here on time? 

When the fish die, no one cares when they go. 
Silent beneath the sickening rainbow, 
Smothering, yet unable to say so; 
Must it be? 

Only concerned with his absolution, 
Not giving thought to make restitution, 
Man is the problem. What's the solution? 
Can we know? 

Worst of environmental diseases, 
Man is still free to do as he pleases-- 
Causing the worst of toxic releases, 
Like puddles of oil in the cattails. 

Puddles of oil in the cattails. 
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