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
