DO YOU FEEL GOD BITING AT YOUR FEET?
birds are swimming in cold air above me
crops are rugged and dried yellow
i will probably keep nodding and smiling,
whatever the fuck the vicar tells me

these hills will not love you strange; queer
brought to their knees begging for young blood

AND WILL THIS LOVE NEVER MAKE ME FEEL LOVED ?

when i was at your front door you fed me, clothed me,
now i am smoking and sinning at your back

because you will always be Her in a church, you know.