Thursday, January 8, 2009
Isn't it lovely looking back, thinking back, to find
That 'til this very moment you were finally out of your mind?
Out of an ill fit suit-yourself, wandering naked in time
Just as trick as a limerick that couldn't be bothered to rhyme
Your bubbling blood, like soda-pop from the throat of the fatted cow
Sputtering into the chalice of the indefinable, undefeated and unbelievable Now
The future, lingering out of bounds like the fire of distant oasis
Has tempted the Lord beyond the pale of stable and worn out places
Right into the idle and delicate plans of a schemer promising fame
No bother to doubt, 'you'll figure it out': the Lord sold-out for the game
And wondering what the unholy rope has to hang this heretical thing?
In the maze of malice it was Satan made the Lord: deserted and defeated, and Satan made him King
So, join hands in the choir of Sinners, true and square to the right
And stretched beyond Golgotha, way out to the edge of the night
Cross Israel, cross Egypt and over the Khyber Pass
Queue up and wait, don't calculate the moment of critical mass
The thundering thud when Heaven'll drop from the dark exhausted sky
Uttering unto our Jesus: Bid them follow, give them Glory and by golly, let it die!
Life is as good, love is as good, good as it ever can be
Let's give the Devil a try, my friends - and immortality
- Clare Black