I don't know your name and I doubt we will ever meet.
I always see you at your church. I live across the street.

I sit out on my front porch and wave at the passers by.
You never wave back.  Maybe the sun is just in your eyes.

I shout a hello to your family as the church doors you walk in.
I hear a muttered statement about missing church and sin.

If the doors are open I see you there for every event that's held.
Services, potlucks, and picnics.  Oh, the food that I've smelled.

I can hear the instruments and voices as you praise your God.
While I enjoy the music I must admit that I find one thing odd.

I sometimes hear your pastor preach about spreading the word.
I scratch my head and wonder if any of you really heard.

Cause I don't know your name and I doubt we will ever meet.
I always see you at your church, but none of you see me.