(the love of money is the root of all evil.)
Ninety-odd theses slammed
On a wooden church door.
A sticking point of poison
The selling of heaven.
A slip of coins,
A slip of paper,
Pure as a newborn.
Money to clean the soul,
Money to save the soul.
Ninety-odd theses nailed
For notice on a local door.
Papers for sale.
Paper on a door.
One poured the gas.
One lit the match.
Scratch of the pen,
Rip of the page.
Slash of the sword,
Tearing of skin.
Quite the revolution.
A reformation
Of the West's
Religion and thought.
(Always in Theory)
Bought with blood
And ink.
A world of doors.
A world of words.
Power bought and sold
And haggled over.
So much fresh fish
In the street market.
Money to buy the silence,
Money to buy the position.
You get typing,
I'll get the nails.
And let's hit those doors.