By walls of water and wrath of wood, By sacred flame and silicon web, By lover's kiss and shadow's solace,

You don't stand a chance against my prayer.

I am a fiber optic shaman, a priest of moans. I am a forger of words and a shaper of dreams. I am chosen of shaladal and voice of the Rapture.

You don't stand a chance against my prayer.

Your words are insufficient. And your kung fu is weak. What I tell you three times is true.

You don't stand a chance against my prayer.

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