I have camped without a tent
While stars picked through my brain
Searching for the roots of my intent
In coming to this garden of despair
The way of all lost ways
And now he wants to climb up on a cross
Vinegar for his thirst the loss
Of every dignity the assault
Of every curse
And so much worse
He says for me
For all of us
It was all love’s fault
He says I’ll see
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