We will be sacrificed.
We are born into a world made of altars.
Stone and wood and steel and bone.
We choose where we bleed.
We choose where we sweat.
We choose what gods we feed.
Pass among these corridors of streetlights.
Seek your gods that sacrifice back.
Until you learn the price is never paid for
By these petty constructs
Sometimes people are nice to each other
So give them your heart
And hope the time and blood and treasure and bone
Will let the gods leave your tribe alone