The Adventurer and Pathfinder Clubs both meet on Sundays. Any day on every street Take a look at eyes you meet.
Many mouths profess the Name, But to most it is just a game.
While with our lives His truths despise. But through our lives the lies endure. We force ourselves to church each week To bow our heads both low and meek. When boredom comes the game wears thin And thus gives way to deeper sin. Till dark and cold the heart is worn Just a shell that sin has torn.