I'd rather stand valiantly, vigilantly, vehemently opposed
And leave myself exposed and abhorred by men as some sort of abomination
Among the nations of the wicked, the violent, the oppressing,
Those obsessing, resting rather than confessing,

Sitting on thrones of plush and velvet, comforts among one another,
Transgressing and pressing, stepping further into a heading of course,
A course plotted, addressing to the south,
Lower than any city, any suggestion, below pity and question,

Lord, forgive me, for I am stacked with bricks of hate, not wont to overcome evil with good,
And free from admission, sin's apparition, the unfortunate linger of lust, lies, respect to persons, and superstition,
Where my heart should be freedom from all sin, and my mind should be blades,
Cutting vain vines growing from the millstone seeds of silence cast.

I'd rather stand and have my face plagued and beaten,
Sandstone after sandstone from the deserts of accusation and trial,
Than sit and participate in the forced trepanation
Where some cadaver formerly called the mind sits, and God was removed.

I'd rather stand.
On the salvation of God, love, and unity,
I'd rather stand.