The crippled bull has yet to live Another Day
It proudly ambles on Year to Year
Its discordant song
Triumphant

Is an iron sword that clefts, rips apart The Age
Four hundred and thirty-two thousand
Times over and over
Gutting the

Detested coward and honored brave alike
‘Tis the stench of war and of hot oil
Quickly seeping o’er the
Horizon

With the armies aflame and howling for battle
Crimson red bloodlust and scarlet wrath
‘Tis the jewels that adorn
The tyrant’s

Crown, gleaming and fiery with authority
‘Tis the wedding bed of the wretch’d *****,
Defil’d, soil’d, forsook
No man can

Deny the captivating, luxurious tune
O mighty bull, your song may last from
age to age, and you may
Hobble on

your single leg

Bellowing
and roaring victory
and dominion o’er the nations
But even you must fall down, bow, and come to rest

At

the feet of

A humble

Lamb.