I stay quiet like the stone wall.

No squeaks or cracks are found.

And no changes will be drafted.

In my mind, as it goes round.

I’ve been listening at the altar.

And those words are crystal clear.

There’s a memory of confusion.

A drum and trumpet I can hear.

Things are greater than a mystery.

And holy at the source.

But I don’t need to tell you that.

You know all! Of course. Of course.

There’s no crime in being ignorant.

No stain, in ‘I don’t know.’

But you’ve got to stop pretending.

There’s no win in place or show.