Weapon Of God

Dead black meadows, crimson waves, these broken nightmares on
your plate; believe me, I am a weapon of god too. Crumbled
bones inside a sock, the ticking of a busted watch. The
storm is a thunderous, dark applause, and my love is locked
in a pitbull's jaws. Believe me, I am a weapon of god too.
Bridges burn and children scream – their faith is shaken so
easily. But not mine. I'm made of concrete beams, you'll
see. Believe me, I am a weapon of god too. Cats are
screaming out in back; they've all been stuffed into gunny
sacks. The Johnson boy started selling crank. This
neighborhood has gone to shit. But believe me, I am a weapon
of god too.