I can see the clouds gather in the North, dark angry and heavy
The thunder hitting harder and much more felt now
Their eyes moving by every other one of my steps
All of them hell bent on bending me over that very post
Their mite and hesitant loyalty wavering constantly amongst the ranging hills
Pouring their poison right down the very crucifix they put me on
The burning fire now flowing towards my feet
Avarice now a religion they all bow to, their secret dirty window
A church they worshipped without any faith
I, a sin they all shunned but wouldn’t resist.
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