It begins with characters in their places
Within the illusion of many faces
How happily they walk right in
Into the circus tents of sin
Disguised as places of peace and rest
To take spirits and dollars to the crest
Amidst the damning of the soul
Can’t you see the ultimate goal…

You sin against us they say to me
But I won’t hang from that death tree
So cry foul all the lost
I say to you, “At what cost!”
I say again, “At what cost!”

So again I ask.
Who is in control of what!


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