If faith turns the putrid thought
Into the sublime will of the obscure,
Then the days of the angels await
All the lepers and the whores.


Tainted hands can be raised in prayer ,
Heads bowed in expedient convention,
Bloody stains just hidden behind
Veils of righteous pretension.


How miraculously devotion crystallizes
From the ashes of the dead,
How easily tolerance becomes an anathema
Based on the scripture that you read.

Let it be blasphemous now
If unholy thee I proclaim -
To exorcise these bloody demons
And call them by their name.


If I could only shed this skin…
If I could efface this name untrue,
How I would sever the very thread
That binds me to you…