| Not thirsty am I for the blood | |
| Of redeemer of thy greed | |
| My hunger can't be satisfied | |
| With flesh of thy nazarene | |
| No gilded streets of heaven's grace | |
| Entice me in thy speech | |
| No holy mother doth condone | |
| All your pillage war and greed | |
| But know thee that all oceans worth | |
| Of waters turned holy | |
| Won't change the course of river | |
| That runs inside of me | |
| My blood flows ever skyward | |
| And pools where thy black is white | |
| For woulst thou not carme at my soul | |
| With sword of thy supreme truth | |
| Strike me down on my bended knees | |
| For thy baptism so soothe | |
| My blood flows ever skywawrd | |
| And pools where thy black is white | |
| Alone am I to raise my head | |
| In the starless forest night |
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