
My lady, you lied to me.
You called the words of Paul
A sainted one,
You said his epistle is scripturally pure.
Oh my lady, you lied to me.
You told me our world is moving
Why are we not swirling?
Abi, is it only me?
You said a thousand He fed
With just a loaf of bread.
Haba, my lady!
In a lion’s den, you primed my world.
To your lies
I shall sojourn with Pharaoh,
Crossing the Red Sea of our love
As you voyage to your Canaan…


