I am neither your sacrificial lamb or a turkey,
My son is not a scapegoat nor will I allow him to be a lost child,
How many goblets of blood spilled?
How many hosts offering flesh?
To satisfy the greed of industry disguised as devotion
I've been cast aside and turned away, bleeding and
broken
By "hero's" who made judgments on my soul and psyche
The sacraments of blood and flesh these men
and women devour
Savoring a community of like minded initiates,
And feeding the weak to institutions to bask in glory
and power
