O spirit
Scepter, subjects stumble for
The immortal who dies
God knows when
O spirit
Lord of your own servants
They serve you well
Pool of blood
Pound of flesh
Elements of your sacrifice
No shrine nor place of worship
Hither, thither
Helter-skelter
Obey they must, your call
Lord of ranks and titles
Yen, Naira, Pounds
Creation of it's servants
Your love is loved
Like manna-from-heaven you arrive
Departs leaving agonies behind
O spirit
Why do men disinherit their souls
To be your associate?
Many lives, ruined
Many plans, scattered
Many futures, shattered
Many dreams, battered
Many happiness, destroyed
O spirit
Old and young worship
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