(Remember the black grail motto of infinite greed)

When you save all your sorrows
And hopeless tomorrows
When you beg, steal and borrow
From the remains of the day

When stories of suffering just make your heart bleed
You concede with relief like the thief in the night
In the sight of his den, where he can then
Hide from the heat, to retreat from the view.
More true than the red, white and blue, of factory farms
That do harm to purge, all the rotten, misgotten
ideas of divine, when you were all mine
Link all the chains and bloody remains
of your mistakes and the pain that creates
In the lost...

I deny, nothings permitted
and everything is true
In the lost and the loveless
and the wild and the wreckless
In the doomed and despondent
Your correspondent will tell blues
It passes for news in lost towns

On the end of a bad karma trip
Just facing death death
with a hunch and a sigh
And a glint in their eye
that says I know why

(And the need to believe in some infinite creed)