"The Toast"

I know a story that's never been told the words carved in blood on a street of gold of a world once rich and once in love reduced to rubble, from hands above the priest looked down from his steeple perch and with sad eyes said as the churches burned

"My God... they've come."

The generation gap grew too small until no one knew who was truly wrong they scoffed and laughed at the old and aged they hung the young who they saw as a plague and the politician looked down without a word and with sad eyes said as the markets burned

"My God... they've come."

Amid the war and amongst the bombs a man came forth and sang a song he started quiet but grew with time until his words stayed fast in everyone's mind and a spirit above looked down on this world and said with surprise as the temples burned

"My God... they've come."

Now the cities are gone and so I'll toast the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost He came and left, saved His own soul saw that they paid and unneeded toll the priest looked down from his ashen perch and said with surprise as the parish returned

"My God... they've come.
"My God... they've come.
"My God... they've come..."