“‘They throw their money into the gutters.Their hard-earned cash stinks like garbage.They find that it won’t buy a thingthey either want or need on Judgment Day.They tripped on moneyand fell into sin.Proud and pretentious with their jewels,they deck out their vile and vulgar no-gods in finery.I’ll make those god-obscenities a stench in their nostrils.I’ll give away their religious junk—strangers will pick it up for free,the godless spit on it and make jokes.I’ll turn my face so I won’t have to lookas my treasured place and people are violated,As violent strangers walk inand desecrate place and people—A bloody massacre,as crime and violence fill the city.I’ll bring in the dregs of humanityto move into their houses.I’ll put a stop to the boasting and struttingof the high-and-mighty,And see to it that there’ll be nothing holyleft in their holy places.Catastrophe descends. They look for peace,but there’s no peace to be found—Disaster on the heels of disaster,one rumor after another.They clamor for the prophet to tell them what’s up,but nobody knows anything.Priests don’t have a clue;the elders don’t know what to say.The king holds his head in despair;the prince is devastated.The common people are paralyzed.Gripped by fear, they can’t move.I’ll deal with them where they are,judge them on their terms.They’ll know that I am God.’”