The Lord's Curse

If he had a grain of wisdom in his mind
Maybe he wouldn't have left it all behind
It was the Perfect Garden, a sacred grace
But he couldn't stand to look at that place
For the natural beauty felt like a blade
Hurting him deep in the light and the shade

He spread his cancer like a burning wire
The kind of flame that never kills the fire

Sadistic, he plans to leave the earth barren and dry
The garden's plague became a glint in his eye
The sickness spread fast, a dark design
And showed the Lord your worth in time

On the seventh day, he took his rest
And the Lord's curse is us

And to this day, his rest is a joke
For he knows the truth that no one can trust
The Lord's final curse is simply us