God the Father,
Whose throne,
Usurped by Father Christmas;
To whom we pray for toys,
And by the Pope;
Who passes down decrees

At each day of offering,
We give thanks and praise to men,
The backbone of the church
Who have been fed
By daily bread,
Handed down by the Father,
That substitute for Christ;

Who with his hands has touched,
The golden cup of Rome;
Wherein his sin begin.

Fruit of the vine,
Work of human hands,
As if it could become
One crucified.

The Devil’s monarchy,
Christened and anointed
And placed within His holy temple,
To satisfy the end of days.


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