Poetic-Verses
THE LAST HYPOCRITE
They say those girls in buzzy trousers
Are demons
And they hold the weapon of religion
To kill
And even when they wear the trousers,
Conscience forbids you to see twice
For there is no juice in a dry
Kernel shell or corn stalk
They organize prayer meetings to kill
They are your pastors
And sweetly smiling deacons
Showing all forty-four metal teeth
They steal the blessings of the weak
When they cry to God among them
And God releases them
Oh yes, they are rich
"God has blessed them"
And even as the poor
They are the worst
They are the evangelists preaching about
"Come to my church", they say
And they may nearly convice you
With Mimshak anointing and some false flow
Of irrational anointing
Preaching power and might
They raise the death
Before your very eyes
Oh, how Christ's words are true
They own the jobs with a 666 fist
There are no jobs
They own the government with a 666 bite
There is no moving for you alone, odd one
But they gather enough into their bans
Yes, "the lord has blessed them"
While they broadcast your thought
They would soon come to prescribe
You carry your weary self to their
Death dungeons called hospitals
Where they who have the moneies
Should pay the bills
What of faith? You may say:
"It does not work till you're dead"
Those people have washed their hands in the
Bloods of men. They have a blood velt.
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THE LAST HYPOCRITE
THE LAST HYPOCRITE
