We huddle in our cosy church, protected
From thoughts that we don't want to see or hear.
We'd rather have simplicity, don't want to face reality;
Resist the slightest change to our ideas.
The walls which we've erected round our minds
Are there to hide away from easy view,
Our fearful insecurity—we call it moral certainty;
Our dread of all that's foreign, or that's new.
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