Peter pays for Paul in this wicked age
Dire is the end of this system of slaves
Bemused by dazzling paltry things
As the land turns to desert
And the seas are besieged
Poison air and plastic rain
Pesticides pollute the plains
Nothing left to call pristine
As we capitalize off all the living
‘The world is ours,’ said the kings of sin
‘Let our means subdue the whole world to no end’
With their actions and words they invited death
Considered it a friend
Made a covenant with it
A whirl of desire
The transformation of ways
Corruption of innocent minds
Through perverse counsel they fettered the world
With invisible chains unhinging the poor
Few have requited an unsullied life
The debt of their sins piled high
Bereft of any thought resembling wisdom
Queen Zion is nowhere is sight
May judgement be stern for the exalted
And may the lowly be pardoned by grace
As the wiles of this wicked generation
entice the end of days
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