The upper room of the clergy
Men gathered together in the vestry
Diverse races in the attachment
United for the sake of a dying congregation.
Men with black thought, long ropes intertwined with a white mindset
They are just rainbows of colors that depict evil
If they cry you a river on the outside
You’ll feel much pity
But on the inside they are drops of the red sea.
Bullets exchange is the bureau they work with
From the auditorium to the Pastor’s corners
Winks of sorrow, finger signs while raising holy hands tend towards the shape of nine
Let’s reverse a case, then an illustration.
If Pilate was Jesus to be crucified,
The Jews won’t have yelled at the Messiah King
Torn vestments but you’ll see them walk together to hide their patches
The congregation had Jesus
But Pilate was the forsaken god.
Fed with lies now they sip syrup of hatred
Melody of loose rhythm, when the choir do songs with hook uncatchy
Heaven’s at sight but I see a more glorious view of hell
Believe me when I say they’ smooth players.
‘Cuz winking at a rev sister during service?
Y’all know they hold nun (none) like that
From the wink to sex on the sink
Her belly be bulging
For shame she abode with
Had a 9 in the vestry tucked in her garment
At the 9th hour…the sun was darkening…
A bullet went through the windows with a blood stain.
Murder…a trinity just died
Monk, nun and the unborn
They go seek solace in hell
Here is murder in the vestry
A place where nuns shoot monks for cock-sake.
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