Pentecost

Though I know not what I am held before I know It is not the one you call Lord No holy lamb’s blood, no cross, no crown No god, no master, just cold hard ground Baptised at thirteen and submerged for my sin To keep the man quiet, have my path begin For the scripture you teach I cannot believe To you it’s divine and to me it’s false pride Every young Sunday, marched up to your door Away from the joys of play and of love Redemptional hymns drone through the halls, Rejoicing in songs of eternal life I would see the flock tremble and shiver and shake Arms outstretched, for their miracle day With heads bowed low, the coffers would fill Part not with your pennies, All love should be free Plant a new seed And worship free, Let the Earth and Trees, Bring comfort to thee No trumpet will call No saviour will rise Let the Earth and Trees Bring comfort to thee