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Remember how it all began?
The apple and the fall of man.
        The price we paid, so the people say.

Down a path of shame it lead us,
Dared to bite the hand that fed us.
The fairy tale, the moral end.
        The wheel of fortune never turns again

The worst of it has come and gone
In the chaos of millennium
        In the falling out of the doomsday crowd.
Their last retreat is moving slow,
They burn their bridges as they go.
The heretic is beatified:
        He'll teach the harlot's child to smile.

Wracked again by indecision.
Should we make that small incision,
        Testify to the bleeding heart inside?
We cut, we scratched, we rent, we slashed,
And when he opened up at last,
Found a cul-de-sac, deep and black
        Of smoke and ash.

The wicked King of Parody
Is kissing all his enemies
        On the seventh day of the seventh week.

The tyrant's voice is softer now, but just for one forgiving hour.
Before the rise of his iron fist again.

I've come tonight, I've come to know
The way we are, the way we'll go.
        Come to measure this, the width of the wide abyss.

I come to you in restless sleep
Where all your dreams turn bitter-sweet.
With voodoo doll philosophies,
        And day-glo holy trinities.

The crooked raft that leaves the shore
Ferries drunken souls aboard.
Pilgrims march to Compestela,
        Visions of their saint in yellow.

All follow deep in trance, lost in a catatonic dance.
Know no future, damn the past.
&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Blind, warm, ecstatic, safe at last...

Welcome to Gaia! :: View User's Journal | Gaia Journals

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