Your Dad is bad, your Mum is mad,
Your brothers all run wild,
And you were born with feet of horn,
For you are Satan’s child.
The fairies stole your soul at birth
And stashed it God-knows-where.
You are the wretched of the earth,
Past pity and past care.
The fairies stole away your soul
And smashed it on the stones.
Your feral smell is straight from hell
And death is in your bones.
We break your bones and tear your flesh
Because... because we do.
We starve you for your wickedness.
There is no health in you.
And so you scavenge for your food
And hide yourself from sight.
You are inimical to good,
The outcast of the night.
We wall you up and when you die
Unburied in the dust you lie,
With only Jesus Christ to mark
Your short remission from the dark.
Time is short, so I’ll be direct: FIRST THINGS needs you. And we need you by December 31 at 11:59 p.m., when the clock will strike zero. Give now at supportfirstthings.com.
First Things does not hesitate to call out what is bad. Today, there is much to call out. Yet our editors, authors, and readers like you share a greater purpose. And we are guided by a deeper, more enduring hope.
Your gift of $50, $100, or even $250 or more will bring this message of hope to many more people in the new year.
Make your gift now at supportfirstthings.com.
First Things needs you. I’m confident you’ll answer the call.
