NO PIN ON THE GRAVE Valley opposite Beth Peor. No pin. No shrine. God did the backfill Himself No shovel crew, no eulogy merch Valley opposite Beth Peor He hid the plot so the living wouldn’t make it a church One hundred twenty, eyes still sharp Vigor not dim, then the ridge went dark Thirty days of weeping, then they packed the tools You don’t worship the hammer when the house is the rule No pin on the grave That’s the whole damn song Build the house, sign the work Then leave — don’t linger long No shrine, no map, no tourist line Carpenter gospel — power without the shrine Don’t build a cult on a hole in the ground God hid the plot so you wouldn’t sell the soul Michael wouldn’t even cuss the Accuser “The Lord rebuke you” — that’s the only closer Satan wanted the body like a relic to flip Archangel wouldn’t sell a name and wouldn’t even tip Peter wanted three booths like leftover cedar Cloud rolled in, Voice said *Hear Him* — not the preacher Moses showed once, talking exit plans Then gone. No encore. No bones in your hands No pin on the grave That’s the whole damn song Build the house, sign the work Then leave — don’t linger long No shrine, no map, no tourist line Carpenter gospel — power without the shrine Don’t build a cult on a hole in the ground God hid the plot so you wouldn’t sell the soul I sell crystals. They don’t raise the dead. They sit on the workbench by the saw and the lead Don’t make lots of money. Don’t linger on the ridge. Custody’s claimed. Walk off. That’s the bid. Dispute over the body — oldest hustle there is Devil bidding on flesh like it still was his You want the pattern, not the bones in a jug Finish the frame. Hang the door. Don’t shrug. No pin on the grave That’s the whole damn song Build the house, sign the work Then leave — don’t linger long No shrine, no map, no tourist line Hear Him — not the relic, not the shrine Don’t build a cult on a hole in the ground God hid the plot so you wouldn’t sell the soul No pin. Pack the tools. Gone.

From the asset's metadata file