We are now called Jerub-Ba'al,
brothers in blood and fell in oath,
the silent sound of the Fall.
Let the lesser lights shine to all.
Castor and Pollox have no worth;
stones and sail screaming out
from the mountains where rivers berth.
We are the beds cut in the earth.
I have come for Asherah,
and I shall contend with Ba'al.
Naught is given beneath the sun;
Naught is had that is not won.
He approves of what we undertake.
He approves what we overtake.
He approves what we ourselves negate.
He approves the sounds we make.
As is the man, so is his weakness.
So leave the burning gold on your heads.
As is the god, so is his greatness.
We are nothing more than riverbeds.
I felled the very goddess-carved totem,
which Joash erected high.
No doubt my god has smote them.
No doubt… no doubt…
He approves of what we undertake.
He approves what we overtake.
He approves what we negate.
He approves of the sounds we make.
He approves some lessons learned.
He approves some churches burned.
He approves silence earned.
He approves death not spurned.

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