I, insistent, follow blindly
on the buckle of the Bible belt
with a two-bit axe in my pack, and my baby boy on my back
as I track you on the mountain

It's not the first time we met
“Light a fire,” he said,
“Send your boy out to destroy the saplings, gathering sticks.”

Well I spit and I cuss
because I have issues with trust
“But I might as well avoid the hellfire I can control,” I told myself.

So I raised a cairn in honor
and I scanned the sky for Gabriel
and I made your sign with oil on his head
and wept

You snatched the knife from my fist
and checked me off of your list
“It was a test, you're highly blessed and I am proud that you passed,”

Well you judge the dead and the quick
but that was awful and sick
to flicker like a candle, I am not a man that gambles


What if no ram came?