I am standing
with my arms thrown open
waiting to receive a gift from God
from my Holier-than-Thou sacrifice.
Drawn cold drops of blood
from congealed veins fill
silver chalices warmed my lusty flesh.
God will not listen to hastily spoken prayers,
bittersweet remorse lingering in my tears.
A funeral march can only last so long…
Now He lays her down to sleep,
I pray, my Lord, her soul to keep.
And if I die before I wake
bury me where I can feel the rain.
Accept my non-Virginal sacrifice,
thoughtless as it may be,
and judge me with all my sins in front of You.
Our sins are all that you gave us.
If we were not created to sin,
we were not created to live.