Dead For All Eight Hours

They are dead for all eight hours! They'll rise to wag their fingers! At that time they will talk big things That talk to their egos and powers! They will rise with all their trappings And recall the last happenings Including the altercations And what they told their followings! While they sleep there are no tensions, Vindictiveness or contentions! They sleep soundly, contentedly, Free of injurious actions! After eight hours they are surly, Even spiting all things holy. They mock even the divine will! Of course, they reap for their folly! God, in our heart love please instil So the cup of wrath we do not fill In the day hours we are awake,... That we may not wantonly kill!