Holy Man

Holy man with a wicked tongue,

death bells ringing on skyscraper steeples,

gawkers and watchers, Holy man speaking

    stories that aren't his to tell.

Is it for me, or is it for you?

Is it for me, or is it for an audience

and a story that seeps into the creases

to make a broken urn whole again?

Holy man on fire,

    alone in the pews.

I'm praying for mercy

while we burn to the ground.

Is it for me, or is it for him?

The fists are furious, not struck with love

and I'm melting, I'm melting.

When this place burns,

    I'll be among the ashes.

    I'll be among the ashes.

    I'll be among the ashes.