Hold me, golden temple, In your green embrace, Draw me to your bosom, Place my lips upon your face Nails and crosses have passed and gone away Painful defilements: it’s time they just decay Hold me, golden temple, In your green embrace, Draw me to your bosom, Place your lips upon my face I’ve been Christ on the World-Tree; I’ve done that once before That’s just not the person That this world needs anymore
Like rivers of feces poisoning our land It’s time to make them drinkable, to drink out of our hand Hold me golden temple In your green embrace And find me, and find me, a place
And find me, and find me, a place
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