You Said You Saw the Pastor

You said you saw the pastor hiding in the corner of the shabby church smoking, and looks worried That Windmill turns no more, quietly stands Silently prays and loudly mourns For it never forgets how people scorn That old car parks by the roadside Pieces of paint, peeled and flake off. Traces of rust, tell the stories of long gone trust. That rocking chair at the front porch, screeching Sings songs of lonely, only winds can understand That old tree stands firm in the grassland Treacherously tells things we can never stand. Red bricks and concrete, scattered on the ground describing the cheerful moment when pieces of broken hearts were found. That smiley wolf wears a three-piece suit patiently tells kids the value of being mute Weeds, powders, and pills Have become the ingredients of feel You said that you saw the pastor hiding in the corner of the shabby church smoking, and looks worried I see the sounds of praise, rushes away in a hurry.