The old man she calls Father is swathed in female fabrics
he cornered her in a dark confessional back facing to listen to her

choke on incense and tradition so dark listen to her fake sins pour forth the
liar cheater thief killer lady lover will say four our fathers and hail Mary she's

pushed out through the curtains to a room of gold smoke and diamond
encrusted mirrors yes you sent money excuse yourself and dab that green off

your face its dripping the statue hangs off wood like your ancestors words
from a dead language pour forth in monotone from her mouth which

she covers for some control hands and knees back into the dark room please
let her back in Father tell her something Father guide her please it isn't working

shes a poor banished child of Eve who wants back in make her understand Father she was
born in blackwatch plaid and she never should have fallen this far.