The pastor wears a cross
As the poor bleed out the cost
The bishops serve the boss
As the children endure the lost
With minds forged for slaying
Upon altars built for praying
When love gave way to raping
Truth was long past escaping
I’m tired of losing all notion
Of sincerity in societies motion
Now charismatic distortion
Consumers mental abortion
But maybe it’s always been
But will it always be
So truly untrue
So surely unsure
You have your pleasure
I have my pain
That is your treasure
I would have no gain
Inside another heart dies
Have you seen the lost ever ask why
With minds forged for slaying
Upon altars built for praying
Consume your mental abortion
Then pay to diet on distortion
Hypocrisy is the hypothesis
But how will I know
If I’m taught what to see
There is no spoon
There is no spoon
But in this room
I’m in this room
Intoxicated by the wine
That I can’t taste
Blinded by design
To wither and waste
Where is the peace
And why do they lie
They’ll never desist
If we give them time
The pastor wears a cross
As the poor bleed out the cost
The bishops serve the boss
As the children endure the lost
• § •
Saint Iscariot 