At the beginning of the year
I was living in fear and clueless,
a paranoid Judas,
unemployed and useless,
tramping about shoeless,
wondering why God
was so ruthless with promises
so truthless
but the truth is quite
lucid to those who seek
when all is bleak and fruitless
for the meek and lowly
shrewdness with which
the Holy are crowned.
now I am found dancing
on burial grounds to
heavenly sounds
praying for vicarial hounds
to sniff out heretical clowns
and reform them with
homiletical renown
so that they may avoid
my dark fate, oh boys,
its a high rate,
to reverse hate
and make the crooked
straight but somebody
must carry that weight
or we would all die
swiftly because wide
is the gate and narrow
is the way so Lord
sift me and burn away tl
this dross quickly
before my soul
goes up for sale
at the bazaar of the lost
and they commit me
to a cell where the stars
are tossed from the ceiling
and no longer heal me
when I'm kneeling under
a heavy cross praying
Father forgive me.