| Exactly where should I begin,
|
| Forgive me father I have sinned,
|
| Been caught perpetuating wrongs,
|
| I screamed an accusation,
|
| And yet convinced that still I can,
|
| Somehow be better than I am,
|
| If I could only bring myself,
|
| To step in one direction.
|
| But all this progress that I’ve made,
|
| Has left me bitter and afraid,
|
| I bolt the doors and let the
|
| Trappings of my life surround me,
|
| And hope to God nobody calls,
|
| But trust the scratching in the walls,
|
| To be my comfort and my shelter
|
| From the world around me.
|
| Ignore the whisper on the wind,
|
| Forgive me father I have sinned,
|
| I swear right now I’d cling
|
| To anything you’d care to show me,
|
| To save me from improper thoughts,
|
| That modern miracle of sorts,
|
| Against a tide of advertising,
|
| And survival only.
|
| A precondition has been set
|
| And every new potential threat,
|
| Must be eradicated from
|
| the face of all that’s sacred,
|
| Not just anger for the cause,
|
| I’ll be hysterically yours,
|
| And death to any reason,
|
| Evidence or explanation.
|
| So tell me what have I become?
|
| A middle finger to the sun?
|
| I traded fireworks for love
|
| and I was left with nothing,
|
| But paper shards and empty shells,
|
| A burst of sulphur blown to hell,
|
| It might just be that all this
|
| history has taught me something.
|
| So I’m taking lessons from the past,
|
| They won’t build anything to last,
|
| But engineered to fall apart,
|
| The day the warranty expires,
|
| So keep the wheels turning round,
|
| Keep our flag pinned to the ground,
|
| Just don’t look back and don’t look down,
|
| In fact try not to look at all.
|
| You’ll see opinion dressed as fact,
|
| See definitions inexact,
|
| And explain away the darkest days,
|
| As misinterpretation,
|
| This dumbing down it’s so uncouth,
|
| Like there’s one single fucking truth,
|
| I couldn’t bear that right and wrong,
|
| Could be so uncomplicated.
|
| And swagger dripping from the stage,
|
| Curse the impatience of the age,
|
| It all takes time, and time is money,
|
| Money talks, and talk is cheap,
|
| Cheapest road to lead the way,
|
| From seed to forest in a day,
|
| And by the time summer’s set,
|
| There’s only dirt and matchwood.
|
| So could it be the end is nigh,
|
| The time for idly standing by,
|
| Is now upon us,
|
| Everybody look for some distraction,
|
| Throw my patience to the wind,
|
| Forgive me father all my sins,
|
| Feel like they’re woven,
|
| Double stitched into the fabric of the World. |