You say hills of God are thousand cattl'd,
Yet you slither, your palm's rouged face unveiled.

You say you're homeless; you're a visitor,
Yet you enchant your bordello with myrrh.

You say you're secured with eternal life,
Yet a flimsy match would scorch this whored wife.

You say loved money: a root of evil,
Yet you're thrilled with your bastard, fiscal fill.

You say seek things first the kingdom of God,
Yet lie with the Devil's dowry'd facade.

O you of damned delight!
You lurk 'neath the shadows of pews
Peddling your poisoned Amway'd ooze.

O you of the red light!
The "hallowed" enemy within
Outbids the enemy in "sin."

O you of the sold night!
Your servant eyes of the serpent
Glimmer cold for all that is gold.