In the desert of Christian land,
where Christ would never touch the sand,
I died of thirst beneath the sun,
no love, no grace from anyone.
No smile sincere, no gentle hand,
no echo one could understand.
No kindness in their holy creed,
no water for a soul in need.
They spoke of Christ, yet none was near,
no drop of truth, no trace of clear.
Just parched ideals and hollow breath,
I drank their faith and choked on death.
