He bleeds, for he is weak
Tortured thoughts
He bleeds some more
Preaches to the mild
So reverent in their eyes
Looking down, he sermons
The cross is bearing
Impure thoughts
He bleeds some more
The thoughts get stronger
Penance for the soul
He touches his scars
Sacrificed for his lord
The prayers cleanse
He is pure
Gods chosen one
Standing before his flock
He sermons
They call to him
He sees her
The scars open.