He awoke with a sweat, Jesus wasn’t up yet.
But the angels blew their horns
In defiant display.
God was sick on that day.
Achin’ for the fix he needed so bad,
God reached for the rig he kept in his bag –
An old crucifix with a needle at the feet –
Plunging down the sweet cloudy treat.
Hit the spot again.
Even God loves mortal sin.
He un-hooked the belt and drew deep breath,
That was the day of Jesus’ death.
Now, two thousand years later
And a few martini’s with Gin
Christ finds me in the smack again.
Deep in the middle of a bizarre love triangle
God, Jesus and I just seem to dangle
Over the pit of disbelief –
Wait ‘til I’m dead for all the grief.
Pungent consciousness grips my head
This time I swear it’s all been said
But I know I’ll go back and say some more
A foot in the mouth is one less on the floor.
So drop the razor and come with me,
Come on over to my calm sea. It’s not so bad
When you can’t feel
Best way I’ve found to just deal.
screaming at low volumes
