The Good Reverend Doctor

From a long line of purifiers, got two sons
One walking dead and one still alive
But he’s infected with a fever that make heathens
Scour the jungle for white preachers
First [?]
Both turn a deaf ear when I voice that scripture
But when you bring a conquest it’s a dinner no less
My wife claps with the anger
While I tell tales of virtue and white slave owners
My son ignores the danger
Left the table abrupt, wife stays longer
I can’t stomach nor dine with [?] mongers
Came home to witness crack in God’s armor
Crack on a dance floor, son mocks a father
I know the devil’s handiwork, with the son berserk
And a son hypnotized by white women’s worth
Not one chance, no more necromance
Shot my son in his belly, put to death that dance
Place the pearl handle deep inside the good book
Sunk into my chair wife holds the son the dead took
One son left his wife and a daughter
To taste forbidden fruit, wasn’t sure what he was missing
Older son left his soul and his lights
Stole a TV from his mother so I took back what was given