“The Prophet They Never Ordered” by sheryl clyde

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.(Pre-chorus – voice cracks)
So don’t hand me a ballot and call it a sword,
I’ve seen what we worshipped; we knelt to a whore.

(Chorus – full-throated, minor to major lift)
I am not the prophet you were looking for,
Soft words, clean hands, and a three-point cure.
I’m the one you wish you never had,
The mirror you break when the truth gets bad.
I’m the voice in the comment section scroll
Screaming “We poured the drain, now we’re losing our soul!”
Yeah, I’m the prophet you never ordered,
But I’m the one that Heaven sent.

(Verse 2 – driving rhythm, almost rap)
You want culture war? We surrendered first,
Traded covenant vows for a feel-good verse.
Divorce papers signed while the worship band played,
We taught them “love wins” then we walked away.
Now we rage at the drag shows, the pronouns, the pride,
Like we didn’t march naked in ’69.
Stop crying “Sodom!” when we opened the gate,
We were Lot’s loudest daughters; we served on the plate.

(Pre-chorus – quieter, almost whispered)
Every ballot we cast was a brick in the wall
That kept out the Gospel while the church grew small.

(Chorus – louder, add harmony)
I am not the prophet you were looking for,
With a podcast smile and a merch store.
I’m the one you wish you never had,
The elder who confesses the years we lived mad.
I’m the roar in the echo chamber hall,
“Drop the politics, pick up the call!”
Yeah, I’m the prophet you never ordered,
But I’m the one that Heaven sent

.(Bridge – slow, almost acapella, raw)
Jesus didn’t die for a voting bloc,
He died for the junkie, the jail, the rock.
He died for the widow we never fed,
For the kid on the screen that we cursed instead.
So save your red hats, your blue-wave signs,
The Kingdom’s not advanced by party lines.
Repentance starts here in this old man’s throat,
I helped build the fire; now I’m choking on smoke.

(Final Chorus – full band, defiant)
I am not the prophet you were looking for,
I’m the one you blocked and reported and swore.
I’m the one you wish you never had,
But I’ll scream till the church you broke gets glad.
I’m the locust-eating, wilderness voice,
“Choose this day whom you’ll serve; no third choice!”
Yeah, I’m the prophet you never ordered,
But I’m the one that Heaven sent.
And I’m not shutting up till the altar’s re-lit.

(Outro – single guitar, fading)
Feed His sheep…
Feed His sheep…
That’s the only vote that outlives the night.
Feed His sheep.

2899/7500

(Verse 1 – spoken over minor chords, like a bar-room confession) I was there when the incense was weed and the altar was flesh, Sixties sun in my hair, free love smeared on my chest. We burned the old rules, called it light, Danced naked in the fire we started that night. Now the kids snort our ashes and call it the future, We clutch at the smoke, blame the wound, never the suture. I’m sixty-something with scars where the peace sign was carved, And I’m done pretending the dream wasn’t starved .(Pre-chorus – voice cracks) So don’t hand me a ballot and call it a sword, I’ve seen what we worshipped; we knelt to a whore. (Chorus – full-throated, minor to major lift) I am not the prophet you were looking for, Soft words, clean hands, and a three-point cure. I’m the one you wish you never had, The mirror you break when the truth gets bad. I’m the voice in the comment section scroll Screaming “We poured the drain, now we’re losing our soul!” Yeah, I’m the prophet you never ordered, But I’m the one that Heaven sent. (Verse 2 – driving rhythm, almost rap) You want culture war? We surrendered first, Traded covenant vows for a feel-good verse. Divorce papers signed while the worship band played, We taught them “love wins” then we walked away. Now we rage at the drag shows, the pronouns, the pride, Like we didn’t march naked in ’69. Stop crying “Sodom!” when we opened the gate, We were Lot’s loudest daughters; we served on the plate. (Pre-chorus – quieter, almost whispered) Every ballot we cast was a brick in the wall That kept out the Gospel while the church grew small. (Chorus – louder, add harmony) I am not the prophet you were looking for, With a podcast smile and a merch store. I’m the one you wish you never had, The elder who confesses the years we lived mad. I’m the roar in the echo chamber hall, “Drop the politics, pick up the call!” Yeah, I’m the prophet you never ordered, But I’m the one that Heaven sent .(Bridge – slow, almost acapella, raw) Jesus didn’t die for a voting bloc, He died for the junkie, the jail, the rock. He died for the widow we never fed, For the kid on the screen that we cursed instead. So save your red hats, your blue-wave signs, The Kingdom’s not advanced by party lines. Repentance starts here in this old man’s throat, I helped build the fire; now I’m choking on smoke. (Final Chorus – full band, defiant) I am not the prophet you were looking for, I’m the one you blocked and reported and swore. I’m the one you wish you never had, But I’ll scream till the church you broke gets glad. I’m the locust-eating, wilderness voice, “Choose this day whom you’ll serve; no third choice!” Yeah, I’m the prophet you never ordered, But I’m the one that Heaven sent. And I’m not shutting up till the altar’s re-lit. (Outro – single guitar, fading) Feed His sheep… Feed His sheep… That’s the only vote that outlives the night. Feed His sheep.

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