bells chime the season song
like beating heart ding-dong
to red demon throng
with every little penny
end of year earnings
colourful illusion stand
and on reverend doors mistel hang
who has given ceasar’s feast
to the innocent mangered child
troubled by what has come to be
blood from thy infant eyes wild
not the crying of birth
but truth as silent earth
if your lips of me behold
as candles light your ignorance
like the warm heart of winter cold
a few but too many chance
then my kingdom tale first
and judgement day next


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