The Voracious March Of Godliness

Since the start of the 17th century
There's been the scent of unseasoned wood burning in the air
And the conquest of nature meant nothing at all
While we betray exception we take all that is there
Motives are transcluent in the reflection of shame
The actions ghostly remnants of our ancestral ways

And unwittingly, you just take your place in this parade
The voracious march of godliness makes us all the same anyway
Since the dawn of our human family
There's been concentrated sepsis blowing in the breeze
And we turned on each other with ferocity