There was an occasion in my life
In which I was immobilized
By such a heavy sense of doom
Even the bold procession of time
Was crushed beneath it’s weight.

Oh, how it felt like such a wretched violation
To watch my mummy excavated
Like an unrequited love turned to dust,
Raised the dead from ancient slumber,
Tightly wound in woven threads,
Lying dormant in the stillness,
Wherein death had come to die.

Torn asunder, clapping thunder
Struck a flash of lightning
From my worn and weary soul.
Then, I was space blown open
Like a limitless circumference
Ever-widening, Mouth of God
Wailing waves of Holy Om.

Like my sudden screams of terror,
With a force of equal power,
Overwhelmed the walls of silence
I had cast around the past.

Upon my waking up
and breaking through
to emerging echoes,
reverberating rings
of harmonious tone,
Rising up from the depths
of my terrestrial tomb,
A great transmutation did occur.

As the sound arose into the Light
A melodious blossom enchanted th’air
This mystical marvel unfolding in flight
Flowering symphonies, bursting with life.

Now, I am the Breath, unburdened
Released from a dull dis-union
Reclaimed by a Light, All-Knowing
I am a child with eyes, wide open.
I am a child with eyes, wide
I am a child with eyes
I am a child
I am
I

the magnified, mascara applied
                                                    eyes of my skull
burn holes in my thighs
                                       mulling over the size of this hull

i chunder my lunch and wonder of
                                                          everyone else
and if they're also laser beaming love
                                                               i­nto themselves

or if they're boundlessly born with it
                                                              unstained smiles, strained bites
maybe they're just born with it  
                                                   no pained bile or insatiable appetites  

either way, i hardly
                              can infer
if my stomach is
                          half empty
                                          or half full

The drums of doom are echoing
Across the barren hillsides.
  Heavy carts on wheels of hatred
   Loaded high with steaming tubs of vitriol
    And the ugly trolls who brewed it,
     Are rolling down the twisted roads,
      Toward a city newly named Perdition,
       There to dance the Sarabande
        While flocks of screaming Peregrines
         Circle through the storm black clouds
          And all the shutters are nailed tight
           Against the wind that that rattles doors
            And augurs the millennium.
ljm

I think the patron saints have all been left for dead.
The lies have all been said,
and payments been arranged.

The depositions all went down behind the scenes.
The clergy spilled the beans,
but somehow the guilty never found

Have you heard of Jesus?
He was very wise,
now he lives up in the sky.

sing along, sing in spite of all the pain
sing in spite of all of the pain

Children start out in the world so full of dreams.
Then come the philistines,
who run those dreams into the ground.

Yes, it’s been confirmed, the patron saints are dead.
The church is in the red,
and we are all concerned.

I can imagine Jesus,
with a mighty spell,
sending all those guys to hell.

sing along, sing in spite of all the pain,
sing in spite of all of the pain.

The sordid stories that were hidden from us all,
except those on bathroom stalls,
which turned out to be the facts.

Children start out in the world so full of trust,
their faith was easily crushed,
and now we’re filled with a righteous rage.

Now we’re living in a new enlightened age -
sure that we can be the change.
Can we live like Jesus?
Can we avoid lies - can we be compassionate and wise?

sing along, sing in spite of all the pain
sing in spite of all of the pain