Cathedral Notre-Dame De Paris

Hail Mary full of Grace, In castles, painted stone. The chairs too small for children now, The Lord is (somehow) with thee. Though the faces scorn and mock me. The angels died with heaven. Blessed are thou among women Who look on silently, Staring into me, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Biting, burning like the candles. Prayers that never left their heads Jesus. Gone, gone with the blood soaked cloth But still lives on in death. Holy Mary Mother of God, Birthed was He Of human woman blood pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death. Where death takes all to our head And is Fatal as fighting sleep. In boxes men un-become their sins And fight the life they’ve given thee. Return your flowers to dead souls! They care not for your pity, In coffins layered in stone Mummified corpses only. Hail the true blood Hail the power Hail the bombs that brought the concrete pillars of God To their knees. To their death, the dust does settle And by god do they scream, Amen.