Omajod

We suffer, why suffer more?
Why bother?
Seething, blaming me

Worship those in control
Glass eyed cyclops
Bringer of blight, purveyor unknown

The sum unspeaking tongues, and voice that equal none
Amount to this God we’ve crafted from mud

Awake yet we wait
Enlivened we wander
Rejecting the pure, and corroding the song

Imbibe your cup awaits – incite the psalm

We house, feed and grow
Our voices sink and fold

Quiet

Voices sink and fold
Words so holy flow

Dry your eyes