When one is first quite down and out,
When you are sick and full of doubt,
Then someone comes, ready to spout:
"Be sure your sins will find you out."
Even though you received the clout,
Despite the fact they hurt your snout,
They decide you have been the lout
And chant, "Your sins will find you out."
Though you may starve amidst the drought,
Though to your gods you are avout,
They will your every hope rout;
This is how "sins" will find you out.
But, lo, there is no need to pout:
You will survive this ugly bout.
And to them you will someday shout
that their own sins will find them out!
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