Take me to David Perhaps he might teach my heart to speak I have no tears to spill But this unsettling This cross This crucifix Given to deficient omniscient beings How is it carried? I walk through pews To get to him To explain that these shoes do not fit I hear no voice All that echoes is nothingness My ears are tingled by a whisper "Crowns are crucifix" Who makes crowns out of crosses? The back does not fit Yet each one has a peculiar one Which you must carry to Golgotha Before the morning rises Woe betide you If the cross kiss not the sun This unsettling eats deep like worms But according to the testament of this unknown scroll, we must work