Prayers - Intellectual

And now the pope says his prayers to the empty rows of chairs

And looms into the back to see the black again

Sounds the alarm and moves toward the underground

He moves like a sleuth who just lit a fuse

Moves down the stairs for its final use

And sees all the kids playing music again

It's just pure art

No sticklers form

Their bodies broken

Wrecked and worn

All terrible minds, all torn

I'm testing life we're all alone

God gave them wings in a no-fly zone

They faith is drained from head to toe

Flocked to the seas feeling rough

They look around and that's enough

And now the pope says his prayers to those empty rows of chairs

And now the pope says his prayers

And I'll follow my bloodlines

Working class and decisive

Where did you get yourself sorted pal

No one wants their wallet on the side of leaner

And we're all cogs in this well-oiled machine

The office space looked inviting

No remnants of nuns, it's a cash grab

The body of Christ ate like a feast

A sleight of the hand

The mark of the beast

All left alone to eat

I can't say for sure when the time comes

You'll know the signs

He'll appear in minds

Please believe me

He will seek you

If you seek his face

Prosperity waits

And now the pope says his prayers to those empty rows of chairs

God is dead, God is dead, God is dead

I can't see him

But know he's out there

I feel his fire

Like funeral pyres

When he says the word

You can stay and feel

When it's time

All you'll do is kneel

I'll say whatever

Whatever, whatever, whatever

I'll be on my knees

No time to breathe

I need release or just believe

I'm in my head

Somebody said

I left my halo by your bed