She has many tales of miracles,
A torrent of reasons to maintain belief.
I have a horde of rebuttals,
And a strong argument,
Against life in the desert with Millicent.
She fears the Devil,
But cannot live without him,
Every day there is a reason to see his face,
And I lay happy in ignorance,
Glad to live my life,
Not on the other side of vengeance,
But completely withdrawn from the concept,
It washes over me like a cool wind,
But poor Milly!
She goes looking for it,
She has some funny bone inside her,
That pricks at her blood,
Plays rhythms on her brain,
And leaves her ploughing furrows in the snow,
In the cold and bitter outdoors.