Down the hill—

Cue the soldiers with their bugles,

The day is done

Gone is the sun

But it happened in the light of day.

Under the bridge,

My innocence was slain.

The Lord is my shepherd,

And I am the fattest lamb—

My bleats for my mother

Unheard through the wilderness.

Oh, to go where the warmth

Washes me—my salvation

Upon the slippery slope

Of slab and stone.

My Christian name lost in translation.

I still knew to capture the perpetrator.

I lost the battle—

I won the war:

He will not rot in anonymity.

The saints will come marching in

With a bounty on his head—

All they need is a name.

Take mine,

If you must.