The 81 Percent, a song

I wrote this song back in 2017, upon learning that 81% of white, male evangelical voters in America voted for Donald Trump in the 2016 election. I'm Canadian, and the Canadian church has all kinds of its own problems, to be sure, but inasmuch as this statistic is the truth about a tribe that I still identify with in some way (i.e. the global evangelical church), it broke my heart to hear it. Think of this song as a cry of anguish over the current state of evangelicalism in North America. 

I'm thinking about it in new light these days, as I find myself reeling to see the chaos that has unfolded in America during the last four yeas of the Trump administration, and especially after the spectacle he staged at  Washington DC's St John's Episcopal Church during the Black Lives Matter rallies. I offer it here knowing that, as an outsider looking in, my voice is one of the least important in the conversation right now, but such as it is, it's still mine to offer.



The dealer played the trump card
When the stakes were getting high
And the Joker upped the ante
With a twinkle in his eye
And all the players folded
Cause they knew just what it meant
That the chance of drawing aces was 81%
The chance of drawing aces
The chance of drawing aces (yeah)
The chance of drawing aces was 81%

And I don’t wanna talk
About politics and faith
And I don’t wanna walk the line
Between the church and the state
Cause I can’t really say
Who’s hell bent or heaven sent
But I don’t wanna be a part of the 81%

The temperature was rising
And the cistern was bone dry
And the clouds were piling up
In an apocalyptic sky
With lightning on the wind
With a cold metallic scent
Cause the chance of thunderstorms was 81%
The chance of thunder storms
The chance of thunder storms (yeah)
The chance of thunder storms was 81%

And I don’t wanna talk
About politics and faith
And I don’t wanna walk the line
Between the church and the state
Cause I can’t really say
Who’s hell bent or heaven sent
But I don’t wanna be a part of the 81%

And if we sold our souls
At least it was on the level
That’s the art of a deal
With the 81%

And all the merchants gathered
Together for the feast
And someone raised a glass
To the dragon and the beast
And Lazarus was calling
But no one would repent
Cause the profits all were up by 81%
The profits all were up
The profits all were up (yeah)
The profits all were up by 81%

And I don’t wanna talk
About politics and faith
And I don’t wanna walk the line
Between the church and the state
Cause I can’t really say
Who’s hell bent or heaven sent
But I don’t wanna be a part of the 81%