Should I come empty handed?
No redemption can I meet
Of no service to sovereignty
Lay no trophies at your feet
The sorrows that the Earth bestow
Can no heaven balm?
All the woe that cloaks and binds us
Canned 1000 virtues calm
The hollow promise of a hollow psalm
And their need for shepherds
Will see them duelly fleeced
Their hides provides, in bitter times
Warmth for the priests
Amid moth eaten scrim
Behind shrines the heavens
Its glow growing dim
Illuminate on secret shame
Casting shadows across a bog of dirt
Which bears your name
The sorrows thet the Earth bestow
Can no heaven balm?
All the woe that cloaks and binds us
Canned 1000 virtues calm
The hollow promise of a hollow psalm