Saints - Gravenhurst

At seventeen I heard my calling

To suffocate with my embrace

Murder ten to save a hundred

Drown the whole world in my faith

From a long line I descended

Immaculate, an empty womb

And the spur is desperation

Maybe God is desperate too

In watermarks and lonely places

A private measurement of time

In made-up names and blacked-out faces

I will trace my blood line