Itching Ears In A Wired World | Broken Pew

Описание: Itching ears are not a future phenomenon, they're hear now we may all have them. "For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine, but according to their own desires, because they have itching ears, they will heap up for themselves teachers;" II Timothy 4:3 NKJV

"Itching Ears In A Wired World" reflects a general disease where we would rather hear a Christian song that cheers us than draws us closer to following Jesus; or have a parent that didn't correct us; or a friend that won't tell us what we need to hear; or...... the list is endless, until it's not.

"Itching Ears In A Wired World" lyrics:

Scrollin’ truth with a restless thumb,
Every voice sayin’ “I know what’s wrong,”
Prophets for hire, pay-per-view hope,
Selling peace in a three-minute song.
We want a god who agrees with us,
Never allows us to be hurt,
So we ignore He said there would be trouble,
And listen to promises that burst like bubble.

If it hurts, we mute it,
If it cuts, we run,
Truths don’t trend when it costs too much,
So we choose the softer one.

We got itching ears in a wired world,
Scratching for a voice that sounds like mine,
Tell me I’m fine, tell me I’m right,
Tell me the narrow road’s wide.
Ancient words but we twist the sound,
Till the mirror starts preachin’ instead,
Yeah, the truth still stands, but we drown it out
With itching, itching ears.

Comfort dressed in holy talk,
Grace with no cross, crowns with no cost,
We love the verses that promise gain,
Skip the ones about being lost.
Every screen’s a pulpit now,
Every feed’s a chosen way,
But conviction don’t get many likes,
So we scroll past judgment day.

We want bread without hunger,
Healing without the pain,
Resurrection without the grave,
A kingdom with no King who reigns.

We got itching ears in a wired world,
Scratching for a voice that sounds like mine,
Tell me I’m fine, tell me I’m right,
Tell me the narrow road’s wide.
Ancient words but we twist the sound,
Till the mirror starts preachin’ instead,
Yeah, the truth still stands, but we drown it out
With itching, itching ears.

There’s a still, small voice in the silence,
Not polished, not safe, not tame,
It doesn’t flatter my idols,
It knows my real name.
It says “Repent,” not “Relax,”
“Take the cross,” not “Take control,”
It don’t scratch where I itch the most—
It heals my soul.

What if love isn’t comfort first?
What if mercy still calls me higher?
What if the Word I’m running from
Is the only one with fire?

We got itching ears in a wired world,
But the truth still cuts through time,
It won’t bend, it won’t change its shape
Just to keep me satisfied.
Ancient words, eternal sound,
Calling dead hearts back to life,
Lord, tune my ears to hear You clear
Even when it doesn’t comfort my night.

So strip the noise, break the spell,
Let Your voice be the one I hear,
I don’t need what my flesh demands—
Heal these itching ears.