I dreamed I saw St. Augustine alive as you or me
Tearing through these quarters in the utmost misery
With a blanket underneath his arm and a coat of solid gold
Searching for the very souls whom already have been sold

“Arise, arise,” he cried so loud in a voice without restraint
“Come out, you gifted kings and queens, and hear my sad complaint
No martyr is among you now who you can call your own
So go on your way accordingly, but know you’re not alone”

I dreamed I saw St. Augustine alive with fiery breath
And I dreamed I was amongst the ones that put him out to death
Oh, I awoke in anger, so alone and terrified
I put my fingers against the glass and bowed my head and cried