Sweeter Jesus
Pain is your favor, insurrection?
Only a river, told to be tewes?
Of a musical dream, that lived before sin...

Silent skies
With avidity, comes the rain...
Desperation may, fruit or lies
When saviors play the part, they know pain

Salt in the way
Strangers came, to a living love
Simple demands, drama in the speed, stay
A night in the sour mere, that became us

Worth the lucre
With the common, blindness
We decided is a terror
Where fear owes this, less...

Waiting for the walls
To decide, your fate in more
Than the havoc in our halls
When music has a truth, is it at war?

Greate is thy Sin, since Sin is never Small:
     And Monstrous Moles of Sin Call home thy Soule.
About their Mountainous Molehills they do Crawle.
     Play thou (and win) a Game of Whacke-a-Mole.
     Unto the Moles be Deadly as an asp.  
     Beware, take Care, nor Swat the pettish wasp.

The Shitbrain'd Sinners Sins to him are Toyes;
     Theyre Entertainments, Gambols, Games with Dice.
The Mushbrain'd Sinners Sins to him are joyes
     Untill he's made to paye in full their price.
     The Crackbrain'd Sin-addicted Scarab bug
     That liveth but for Sin to Hell is Drug.

From when I wake to when I wincke,
The word of God I'le chew like meate;
I'le give Him ev'rie thought I thincke
From when I wake to when I wincke,
And eate the meate, and drincke the drincke,
And thanke my God for what I eate;
From when I wake to when I wincke
The word of God I'le chew like meate.

The demons begged to stay in town,
the Lord gave them permission.
But not in him, into the pigs,
commanded the physician.

Herdsmen begged the Lord to leave,
afraid of what they’ve witnessed.
And so returning to his boat,
he left them with their sickness.

Ex demon man did also beg
he asked, could he come with him.
But since the Lord was now to leave,
he left him with a mission.

Quhat doe yow call a king that's first and sixt?
Yow call him Gods appointed King; King James;
The King of Ireland, Scotland, and England, mixt;
The King of riuers Shannon, Tay, and Thames.
God blesse the King, the faithfull King who claimes
For Christ the King the Ingliche written word,
And lifts the name aboue all other names
VVho is the Lord of euery other lord.
The King of kings, the word that's als a sword
Diuiding soule from spryte as flesh from bone,
Hath made Him selfe with James of one accord,
And plac'd the monarch James upon his throne.
The Booke of James by God is avthoriz'd,
And hath no neede to euer be reviz'd.

O mother of the Saviour of the world,
     Blesséd art thou, among all women blest,
For God Himselfe within thy womb was curl'd,
     And God Himselfe did suckle at thy brest;
And He that dyed and rose and quitt the tomb
Blossom'd within thy house and there did bloom.

The firstborn fruit of Gods inerrant seede,
     Press'd like a bunch of grapes beneathe His wrath
Untill the Man of Sorrowes sore did bleede
     And suffer more than any martyr hath,
Was offer'd vpp a sacrifice for mee
By Father God and, Mother Mary, thee.

Woman, behold thy Sonne, the glorifi'd,
     Transfigur'd Kinge of Heauen; lion, lamb,
Messiah, God and man who liu'd and died
     And liues againe for aye, and is I AM;
Like Abraham, the LORD did ask thy Sonne;
Like Abraham, thou saidst, Thy will be donne.

Solemn sweet pipes of de o'gan
     Heaven's music I've hyead play,
But I'll tell you somefin' truly
     Certain ez is Judgment Day:
Angels present at de service
     Ev'ry Sunday spread dey wings,
Lif' dey hands, an' witness glory
     When Malindy sings.