Faith

[the Draç]

The foundation laid with brick, we pray to the Most High.

Looking to the sky, the Chariot we ride.

The Merkaba on point, we know where to go.

Continuing to sing, like a river that flows.

No more regrets, we keep coming through.

Over here at the bar, we sip slow, the brew.

Like Taurus, an Ox, or like a cow that goes, "Moo."

Everyone wants beef, like a slow cooked stew.

No more "Faith", we fell to the ground.

Looking for God, although He was all around.

The fit like BiC, we turn into the flames.

Never wanting to quit that old ancient "game".