Standing side by side, judging with nihilistic arrogance,
Toy soldiers all in a row, marching to the beat of a sadistic drum,
Holier than thou, on high, bible thumpers, see you on Sunday,
Dirty little secrets avowed of priests too sinful in themselves,
Hidden by a church too perfect to face this world.
“The Hell they say”, “The Hell we say”!
Business gets religion, dollars over deeds, and cash over charity,
Power, given to those without souls, over those, the sheep.
In tune with nature, life, man the simpleton custodian,
Pagans revel in nature, sunrises over wheaten fields,
Embraces of winter’s breath on rosen cheeks, plumed breath, exhale,
Life embraced with urgency, Mormon John Smith filled a gap, lies,
Gold leafs unearthed, he knew the words, translation meets greed.
We live to live; they live to die, promises of rewards beyond the veil,
If we are wrong we have lived, if they are wrong they have not.
Pulling out of the parking lot just makes sense.