| Beside the shadow of a frozen chapel
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| Under the marriage of the cross and crown
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| Outside the privilege of the «chosen ones»
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| The Image of God is sleeping on the ground
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| Spires pierce the sky like steel through your hands
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| Planks from our eyes plunged in your side
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| Water poured out, but we want wine
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| You said, «Take and remember», but we always forget
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| To the outcast sons, to the sojourners, descendants of loss
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| I’ll hold my breath until you can breathe
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| To truly live, I must begin anew and be consumed
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| Make a heart of flesh from these hollow stones
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| I’m learning what it means to trade my certainty for awe
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| When you fell to your knees to wash my feet
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| Did you see the trampled shadows stained underneath?
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| Did you hear the acrimony
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| Perpetuated by the puppet sewn to the pulpit?
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| We forgot your life and became a people of death
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| Spell-bound by the celibate spectacle, inhabiting mausoleums
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| We are the eulogy at the funeral of God
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| To the outcast sons, to the sojourners, descendants of loss
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| Be consumed
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| I’ll hold my breath
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| To truly live, we must begin anew
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| Trade your certainty for awe |