Broken Alter

I feel the devil calling me, a voice I choose not to hear He's called before when I was young But even then I refused to listen Growing up with an innate sense of right and wrong The path to righteousness was easy to find but laden with snares and pitfalls I've been caught in my share (more than) -- In the woods behind my house about a mile hike stands an old wooden church, abandoned and fallen to ruin I've stood on the weathered floor and stared up at the vaulted ceiling The only sound I heard was the sound the wind makes when it blows through an empty tunnel When I was a child I heard the Voice of God Now I search for it in the decaying wood and broken altar