Just as the unholy ones appeared
While one star opposed many others
And another old shrine was proven
Scientifically impossible a myth
Of pilgrims downgraded to tourists
The wind fingered the old
Pale yellow umbrella in the yard
Warning of the gale to follow
Soon darkness swallowed
The trembling horizon
My scarecrow bones lit up
With lightening crumbling with thunder
Another storm raging against which
We all must stand
Or be torn asunder
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