[Lyric] Fan Mail (Tanya Goodman Sykes)

La, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la

He don't get no fan mail
He never plays the Hollywood Bowl
You won't see Him plug His book
On the Johnny Carson Show
He never rode a Silver Eagle
Or graced the silver screen
He never made the cover
Of People Magazine

He ain't got no P.R. man
Talkin' on the phone
He never went on a world tour
He didn't travel far from home
He was just a smalltown boy
Raised in Galilee
But He had a way about Him
He was royalty
Hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm-hmm
La, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la, la

They say that everywhere He went
People's lives were changed
Why I heard that He could wake the dead
Just by callin' out their names
And how did they repay Him
Well, they lay Him in the ground
You know they thought
They'd really done Him in
But they couldn't keep Him down

I have seen the crowds of people
Callin' out His name
Faces glowin', holdin' out their hands
As He sent down love like rain
And, yes, I was among them
And I was callin' too
And when I touched the hand
Of this Miracle Man
He made me brand new

La, la, la, la, la
La, la, la, la, la
Na, na, na
No, He don't get no fan mail