Crosses worn by men
Are paper thin
Their light shines from within
A wreath of flame
You hail the splintered wood
And bloody thorn
And burn the book of names
When judgement comes
Feast you lion
On the supple lamb
Hallelujah amen
There’s a sad black thing
You pass for an arm
It’s tied slender strings
Around our hearts
Our spirits burn in the flames
Our voices drown in the zealotry
Our bodies give ‘neath the strain of the weight
Feast you lion
On the supple lamb
Hallelujah amen

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