Your Dad is bad, your Mum is mad,
Your brothers all run wild,
And you were born with feet of horn,
For you are Satan’s child.
The fairies stole your soul at birth
And stashed it God-knows-where.
You are the wretched of the earth,
Past pity and past care.
The fairies stole away your soul
And smashed it on the stones.
Your feral smell is straight from hell
And death is in your bones.
We break your bones and tear your flesh
Because... because we do.
We starve you for your wickedness.
There is no health in you.
And so you scavenge for your food
And hide yourself from sight.
You are inimical to good,
The outcast of the night.
We wall you up and when you die
Unburied in the dust you lie,
With only Jesus Christ to mark
Your short remission from the dark.
While I have you, can I ask you something? I’ll be quick.
Twenty-five thousand people subscribe to First Things. Why can’t that be fifty thousand? Three million people read First Things online like you are right now. Why can’t that be four million?
Let’s stop saying “can’t.” Because it can. And your year-end gift of just $50, $100, or even $250 or more will make it possible.
How much would you give to introduce just one new person to First Things? What about ten people, or even a hundred? That’s the power of your charitable support.
Make your year-end gift now using this secure link or the button below.
