Dull as dirt
You can't assert the kind of light
That might persuade
A strict dictator to retire
Fire the army
Teach the poor origami
The truth is in
The proof is when
You hear your heart
Start asking, “What's my motivation?”

And try as you may, there isn't a way
To explain the kind of change
That would make an Eskimo renounce fur
That would make a vegetarian barbecue hamster
Unless you can trace this about face
To a certain sign...

Shine
Make 'em wonder what you've got
Make 'em wish that they were not
On the outside looking bored
Shine
Let it shine before all men
Let 'em see good works and then
Let 'em glorify the Lord

Out of the shaker and onto the plate
It isn't Karma
It sure ain't fate
That would make a Deadhead sell his van
That would make a schizophrenic turn in his crayon
Oprah freaks and science seeks a rationale
That shall excuse this strange behavior

When you let it shine
You will inspire
The kind of entire turnaround
That would make a bouncer take ballet
(Even bouncers who aren't happy)
But out of the glare
With nowhere to turn
You ain't gonna learn it on “What's My Line?”

By Steve Taylor