ITCH

            I've got an itch I cannot scratch
            It drives me to distraction
            And if I do not reach the source
            I'll have to take some action
            It comes from my old landlord
            The evil prince of hell
            Who lost a willing follower
            When for The Lord I fell.

            The world is always calling me
            It whispers words of love
            Always there, just like a thorn
            That's caught up in your glove
            As long as I perfect my gaze
            Upon The Lord of light
            Then I will put up with the itch
            Whenever, day or night.