A present-day look at the past;
It’s Still My Home, Sweet Home

Gulf Oil Redefined
A present-day look at the past

Remember when Gulf oil
was the place you stopped for gas?
The folks in Plaquemines Parish
filled their tanks en route to mass.

The Gulf guy washed their windows,
checked their oil and their tires
and while he pumped high octane 
they would quench their thirst with Hires.

Fast-forward 50 years or so…
When someone says Gulf oil
what comes to mind are not gas pumps
but beaches now quite soiled.

Beachcombing isn’t just a stroll
along the sandy shore.
To comb the beach is hardly fun.
These days it’s so much more.

It’s raking tar balls from the sand
and digging up what’s dead.
It’s sifting through the gooey sludge
while feeling endless dread.

And though the combers work each day
they never are quite through.
Tomorrow’s tide will yield more tar
and with it more to do.

As in the Gulf, the waves of sin
deposit daily crud
that only can be neutralized
through Christ’s most precious blood.

And so it’s good to comb our hearts
confessing what we’ve done
that we might sense God’s cleansing grace
with each new rising sun.

It’s Still My Home, Sweet Home
Birthday wishes to a not-so-beautiful America

In spite of BP’s oil spills
and murders in the Oakland Hills,
I’m grateful that America
is still my home, sweet home

Despite a weak economy
and healthcare battles in DC,
the greatest nation in the world
is still my home, sweet home.

And though police are shot and killed
and kids go missing ‘gainst their will,
I’m grateful there’s the rule of law
within my home, sweet home.

And while our heroes cheat on wives
and some we trust get caught in lies
we value truth and being true
here in my home, sweet home.

And even though we’re still at war
and critics protest shore to shore,
the right to fight and criticize
defines my home sweet home.

Yes, where I live still has its flaws.
To honor God’s against the law
and yet He is the reason
why I love my home, sweet home.