Reprobation Video (MV)

Across grey waters, where the river meets the sea
There in the sandy beach, a brand new cross stands
With a hand nailed to each end, of the wooden plank
Pale as the colourless sky, his body still hangs

'Hath not the potter power over the clay?'

At his feet the tide has left, a pile of shells and weed
Another offering to the dead, that no one will need
No crown of thorns for this martyr of the day
Just a carving on his head, an axe with double blade

'Hath not the potter power over the clay?'

And while vultures, crows and gulls are feasting on his flesh
The sun is slowly rising up to reveal all this mess
Who will be the very first with the discovery
To one of Liverpool's most horrid crime scenery