the rich let scientists in for preparing their seiling in the new houses
the poor crumble into pieces in the cold russian snow
the rich compare their coats and eat them out of houses and home
the poor turn to dust and grin till their gone

the sun runs in my room and points at my table
I realize how dark it was before you came
I realize how thin you are and precious it is
I run out of my room and leave my table on its own

good night god
hail god hail god pastor you are hail god
good night god