I sank my teeth into the mountain

Never knowing I’d find the fountain

of grueling songs of life and death

of gifted lungs with taken breath

A walk about I set out one day

And now again let us all pray

to he most high, holy him,

she, thee, they, zee or zim

our holiness, come from within

bleeding through our gums like zyn

Please give me your divine strength

to tell this tale’s greatest length

hold in your hands, and prick it forth

ring out my mouth south to north

the towering sanguinary city walls

your gutsy streets and bloody halls

the man within may now come out

Now, hear the preacher’s screecher shout: