You were one of many, who said it was a little melodramatic.
You were one of many and the sergeant
Who had been excercissing the lashes on my back
Met your lips in lust for lungs blood
And sucked the air from its breath.
You said it was melodramatic.
You said it was melodramatic and it and the tempest within broke upon the shore
And when the stained glass broke
And the poor maiden started
To choke you thought it was more
Than she should say.

Blood cried from the earth “Where is my brother?”
And the wound that spilled you turned from
And killed her by letting it bleed.
Water sprayed from the Cross and when
He cried for the lost would you say it was too much to see?
When the broke is broken and the childs cry is choken
And the sight of line is soaked in…
What? Is it too much?
Is it too much when humankind weeps and the gold
Mine is not in tragedy deep, do you leave off looking for gold
Because they’re too hard to see through the bones?

Yet each day you pick through the skulls,
Cast aside the bones, through and cash in the diamonds you find
And when the Judge sits, comes and sees the scars on the kingdom
Do you think He will see the blood lies?
When the stoned diamond is bruised and broken
Do you think He won’t find who’s chosen them?
Don’t you think He ‘ll find the Chosen then?

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