Out of Town

Don Chaffin

 

I’ve given much thought to the excuse oft found.

It’s one you keep hearing and keeps going around.

I’ve examined it thoroughly to see if it’s sound.

You know the one: “I was out of town.”

 

This one covers a great multitude of sin,

Contributing much to the state that we’re in.

Going to the lake or some exciting game,

The excuse never varies; it’s always the same:

“Missed you last Sunday.” That’s a familiar sound

Equaled only by the answer, “I was out of town.”

 

It never seems the conscience to bother--

If just across town or much, much farther--

Whether to the lake or golf course, you’re bound,

Your excuse rings to heaven: “I was out of town.”

 

The time finally came and you said good-bye

To go to your mansion, your home in the sky.

You were anxious to see Him who’d gone on before,

To renew your friendship and fellowship once more.

 

You inquired of His presence and were startled at the sound.

Why He didn’t come up, He must have gone down.

And you recall the excuse that He always found:

"He’s not here; He’s out of town.”