Part I:

My name is Annie Ray Church Going Jones

I know every church, every pastor, every sector

I have pills of the scripture digesting in my lungs

Being told that ‘he’ works for God as God works in him was the choirs’ favourite song

They helped the man of God indoctrinate their minds

Take ownership of their thoughts and act as the driving force to their success

The mother told me church was the way to go so I could use it as the stepping-stones to make heaven

The father recited passages from the bible as if he was there when they were written

The congregation prayed with their wallets and purses

As they offered their lives to the cause

Begging me to let myself go and feel the spirit within

The others and I were not the vessels of God

I am an empty vessel of anger and bitterness

And because I couldn’t spread my arms wide enough

To gather the dust that Church had to offer, I was no longer needed by the Lord

My heart could not cough out change from my pocket to fill the basket of the pastor with joy

The others and I could not act as followers of God because we weren’t financially ready

Whilst the pastor speaks the words

Words formulated through the greed of his eyes

The lust of his tongue

Through the Judas of his heart

He altered words that had the nation falling at his feet

Vomiting spare hope dressed in pound signs

Even at different angles the Queens face glittered definably in the notes

Handwritings to handwritings

Checks were being danced out to the altar

As they needed redemption from the man of God

The one that sends them to heaven

The man that’ll put in a good word in their CV

They need church to seek favour from God

But they forget…

God is not like man, he cannot be bribed