U.P. that’s up, but when you pee it goes
down. European tea in an African town
Might their lust for Christ’s might last?
A crown of thorns calls his cranium home
Thrown upon a throne of stone beneath
heaven, where crowds gather like heavy
clouds, concerned about ‘obvious oblivion
that accompanies promised salvation’
Drowning wide awake in his lame lake
Only to supress their all-eternal flame
Like an onion under the dominion of a
heartless chef and his trusted minion
For thine sake and mine, forsake Him
Seeking the gold mine of the Sea King.