There's a city under water and she sings to me with pride
(I sit alone and wish you profound gaiety)
The rains continue to pour across my face, I refuse to go inside
There's a man without a home, free from the bondage of love
(I wish to find within myself a sound laity)
And so I return to the church pew desolate, searching for God above
Born to an atheist household, deprived of propaganda
(I suppose learning now is enough)
I sit here, a church in drowning Uganda
The rains of a thousand brutal homicides leave me with a sigh
(The rainfall allegory, merely a bluff)
But still I sit on a bench in a church yard and the LRA pass by