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The Church of Laodicea

Scarlet woman rides the Beast,
whose star ariseth in the east;
thou wilt make a man thy feast.
Smeared with lies, thy pan is greased;
that first is most and last is least.

You stretch your sagging withered arms,
and draw the dead with deathly charms.

O' thou wretched boney hag,
whose garment is a filthy rag.
Corrupt within and all without.
Thy legs are full of gruesome gout.
Thy skin is scabbed, and open sores.
Thy make-up cakes upon thy pores.
Thy mouth, in smile, is nought but rot.
Upon thy hands, the leper's spot.
The stench of carcass in thy bowels.
Thy refuse clings upon thy towels.

You stretch your sagging withered arms,
And draw the dead with deathly charms.

They come to you, their mother dear,
and let you whisper in their ear.
You tell them what they want to hear.
You never caused a soul to fear,
that Christ may very soon appear.

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