Reverend Bizarre

He was dragging the cross to the Place of Skulls
Through a crowd that mocked him with all different ways
Under the heavy burden he cried for help
He looked at my eyes, I spat on his face!
He was said to be saviour, a Son of God
Somehow he failed to save even his own ass
Or was it just a guestion of being a martyr,
An example of justness for the lower class?
I said keep on moving as he tried to rest
He said you keep moving too, until I return
With these words he cursed me, this Nazarene