Phew, I’m starting to see why most good shows end at season three,

You just become a slop-on fest at some point – I hope it’s juicy chow.

You know, I’m also a working full-timer, cause jabber ain’t no payday,

I’ve made a mess of money, as most of my life, so lets treat this right.

Hmm, that gives me a profound idea!

Tithes, tithes for this poor idjiot - just read into this higher purpose!

And where shall I place the coin offering button-plate of generosity?

Where are my devote lamb-brained cult heads,

And who shall bleat their number lines to me?

For a raging lion longs to devour sweet lambs!

Let my blathering bring salvation to your soul,

And let your unneeded cash fill my spirit bloat,

So I may drift down the river into golden sun!

It’s ok though, for all the sore eyes,

Shadow whispered fourteen years,

But Reveal only mentioned seven,

And I started complaining at three,

Which was so damn human of me.

But Christ, the scene is looking real bad, and I’ve got four to go,

And last time at his ending, God bled me on that crossroad tree,

Perhaps this time, Shadow will allow me pass, returning as whole.