The soiled ground for the sacrifice
Dispelled, crippling, faulty holyland.
I am your martyr, your stigmata
The tears turn to blood beneath my eyes.
My body listens as you whisper
My fingers bend as I'm nailed to your cross.
The splinters etch hearts in my back
I denounce this crucifixtion, I demand another sacrifice.
A cast shadow over this narrow hill
Pulling my fingers from these nails
There will be no use for a second coming