An angel from the lost, spite headband, marked dead man
Innermost thoughts locked, dangling from a cross (what)
The hotter the heart, the harder - wrapped up
Crucified with my chest up, felt forsaken by the Father
Wounded rebel (oooh) in Jerusalem
Gettin picked on, and whipped by the goons of the Devil
Black man, 5 foot 9, see the dawn when he stares out
With wool hair and feet of bronze
Birdstick, a black staff with brown handle
Backtrack; my first kicks, brown sandals
In the breeze of the surgeon, surrounded by merchants
just a small example of how complex royce rhyme patterns can actually get