Steep me in your holy fire
Ablaze the cacophony?
Ablaze the trembling plain cascading down to
The city erupts with temptation
For more
For me I confront my gain my needs my necessities
Who be gone? Who woefully sins like a tired vacant lot empty on a busy Sunday morning
You who be gone on this day of plenty
Deep down into the face of your name, your calling
The breath of your infancy curls into many steaming signals into the air
Suspended, holding out for your soul to come forward
Step forward before you die
Little men pouncing in big suits wearing lean ties
Little men, step forward before you die
What matters to you?
The bottom line or the soul that had descended into you?
Every measure that you take calculates
Every lie that you tell drains from your face
The power
You amongst the many are empty
The many chant the prayers of their ancestors
The water that feeds this land is protected
We are everywhere.