(taken from "THE PULLING DOWN OF STRONGHOLDS)
THE AMEN CORNER
You've strangled enough with your healing hands.
On a canvas of soul,
You've drawn only a blank--
And if blanks could shoot holes,
Then you could make me whole.
The Devil may care, but I understand:
You're on a highway to Hell,
And he has fixed your brakes.
You were showered with praise--
It didn't help; you still smell.
We followed your flies to the Promised Land.
You built a gospel ship while we swabbed the deck.
And when men of God fell down,
The amen corner looked,
But never uttered a sound...
Just the whine of gloryhounds
(Followers' followers--the "sect" in "insect").
Now you fish for compliments?
It's your mouth on the hook.
So take a second look
At your second-hand sacraments--
At the Last Supper, you left us with the check.
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