[Verse 1]
Well, I've been watching us very close,
And I guess the one thing that's been bothering me the most,
Is when I see us playing by the same rules that the world is using.
Well, I've been listening to the things that we say,
And I, I hear us mention words like fortune and fame,
And it makes me wonder if we're sure about the side we're choosing.
That's why I'm asking you
[Chorus]
Who makes the rules for me and you,
When it's wrong or right is it black and white?
Who makes the rules for me and you;
It's our life at stake so we better know who makes the rules.
[Verse 2]
When I see people just like you and me,
Trying to live out the pictures they see on TV;
Gotta have a new car, new clothes, new love when they get tired of trying.
Well, I've been reading 'bout a different way,
Talking 'bout dying to live and losing to gain;
Seems like somebody's telling us the truth and somebody's lying.
I wanna know who.
[Chorus]
[Outro]
Two voices are calling out to you;
You're serving the one you're listening to,
So, tell me who, somebody tell me who.
Who Makes The Rules
Song Meaning
Steven Curtis Chapman turns "Who Makes The Rules" into a pointed question about which crowd the church is actually keeping pace with — "I've been watching us very close... I see us playing by the same rules that the world is using." The specific evidence he cites isn't abstract compromise but the ordinary vocabulary of "fortune and fame," words that show up in casual conversation without anyone flagging them as a problem.
"Trying to live out the pictures they see on TV / gotta have a new car, new clothes, new love when they get tired of trying" widens the target from the church specifically to a whole culture built around replacing rather than repairing. The chorus's repeated question — "who makes the rules for me and you... it's our life at stake" — refuses an easy answer, treating the choice of authority as consequential rather than a matter of personal preference.
The closing lines make the stakes explicit rather than leaving them implied: "two voices are calling out to you, you're serving the one you're listening to." Chapman doesn't resolve the tension by naming the right voice outright — he ends on the demand to actually notice which one is being obeyed.