He sits on His throne
all dressed in black
His hair all a mess
His staff in His lap
as He stares down at humanity
fed up with their ways
He fast forwards the Clock
and re-numbers their days
He causes a tremor
in hopes that it will shake us all
He watches millions die
He watches buildings fall
He sees them scurry
like roaches in the light
my precious God
He weeps at the sight
The Heavens pour rain
upon all our Land
we feel God's tears fall
in the palms of our hands
He takes our Mothers
He snatches away our friends
He indulges in murder
to show us the coming of our end
He allows death to flourish
and to kill all that is new
in the air we smell
the end approaching for me and for you
He's fed up with our lives
our complaints and our sins
He's searching for one soul
that is Holy within
but there's not even one
not here and not there
there's Christians all around
but not a soul anywhere
not one soul that's kept
God's word holy and true
not even your preacher is worthy
not me, and certainly not you
so He destroys our neighbors
and destroys our minds
in hope that one day
one true, holy soul He'll find.