Juice And Crackers

Just a poem

Our sins tip the scales

There is no absolution for free

A soul that has been corrupted

Is a luscious fruit for hell to feast

The money grows upon bushes

But there's blood upon the leaves

At the root of all evil 

Is the water of everything

Let every soiled desire release 

Our seduction plants the seeds

The churches still stand

But the God's have long fleed

Their priest's are wolves fleeced 

Who deceive the lost sheep

Faith in the form of a basket

Passed around to collect a fee

Salvation seems inexpensive

Compared to how cheap what is preached

Bow your heads, pay your tithes

It's better to give, they say, 

As they receive

A ticket to heaven for a swim

The sins of two, condemned in the form of an apple

Forgiveness granted to all the masses, with juice and crackers