How vaguely we eschew complicity with You,
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it's always run-arounds, excuses
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and words we bind to nooses
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just to sullenly let swing
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the best of arbitrary things,
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like, do we care about the poor?
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Oh yes, but we support the king.
|
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And we're starving for the slaughter.
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A man gives up his daughter
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and the walls that keep us safe aren't saving anyone.
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Didn't You say
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to risk everything?
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And we're left dieting for more
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and then we're burning on the tor
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that flanks an emperor's affair.
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We've hardly sacrificed before
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so in manic heavenward stare
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let the confession from our lungs
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that as our bodies torch the air
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to the fanfare and the drums,
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amid drunken wild acclaim,
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I have the urge to scream Your name.
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without hesitance or shame
|
from my place among the burning.
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And our bodies break, confirming
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our inability to remain
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without an object for our yearning.
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Our inability, our inability.
|
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"Oh God, accept our spirits
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into Your holy presence"
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-----------------
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The Lights at Nero's Party
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After The Sirens |