Spend your whole life avoiding the wrath of your loving God
If I am damned for being lukewarm, I've already been damned for a long time
I guess I must have landed somewhere just outside of smiting range, because I grabbed the ark and shook it, and I live.
I whispered prayers out in the forest and the trees replied 'my dear, the woods are empty. It's the gentle wind you hear.'
And if the wind tells me that I'll be damned,
Perhaps I'll turn right back around to you
Back to that church pew.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem