You swallow my heart and flee, but I want it back now, baby. I want it back.
the vicars preach
to an empty congregation
while the prophets scream their gospel
from the roofs of burnt-out cars,
and their voices might be breaking,
but still, they are holy.
to an empty congregation
while the prophets scream their gospel
from the roofs of burnt-out cars,
and their voices might be breaking,
but still, they are holy.
ON FINDING GOD AT THE END OF THE WORLD (pt. iii) | m.c.p (via brotticelli)
