I play my songs
for nobody
In sacred fields
of strawberry
Imagining
the world of man
much better than
I understand

While changing chords
from C to A
I watch the children
laugh and play
They run around
with happy grins
oblivious to shades
of skin

I change again
from A to F
and wonder if
the world is deaf
The songs of love
the children sing,
To jaded ears
don't mean
a thing

Every now and then I wonder why
our God should be found under
steeples made of stone and mortar
heedless of our sad despair
It seems to me He should awaken
In the hearts of those forsaken
(and by the way this condemnation
seems to be a bit unfair)

It wasn't I who in the garden ate the
fruit and begged His pardon
Bringing forth such pain and sorrow
to this world so long ago
I think it simply far from normal
that a God who stands on formal
etiquette and rules of order should
forgiveness not bestow

A God so fond of preaching mercy
Through each member of His clergy
Every Sunday without fail should
perhaps His own words heed
For if this world and all its sorrow
Is to see a bright tomorrow
Then we must create a garden
where no child or Savior bleeds

I think I’m crazy
But it’s a feeling that comes and goes
You say I’m lazy
But I really don’t think you know
I’m somewhere in between
But I don’t know what you think I mean
When that old Jack Daniels gets me down

I see double
But I love you both the same
If I'm in trouble
Then please let me explain
The drinks were two for one
I didn't think that I'd come undone
but that old Jack Daniels got me down

You're my lady
And we really did have some fun
So I'm thinkin' maybe
If you would kindly put down that gun
You and I could talk
Or maybe just take a little walk
Cause' that old Jack Daniel's got me down

Here comes Jesus
from his tomb
With baskets full
of gloom and doom
Judgment, famine,
pestilence and war

He says the end
is coming soon
I wish he’d sing
a different tune
Something that
we haven’t heard
before

He’s got Aids for Tommy
Parkinson’s for Sister Sue
There’s an STD for Mommy
(Daddy hasn’t got a clue)

Here comes Jesus
from his tomb
With baskets full
of gloom and doom
Judgment, famine,
pestilence and war

Maybe if you’re
extra good
And try to do
the things you
should
He won’t come
around here
anymore

You’ll wake up one morning
and you’ll know he isn’t there
And you will see the smiles
on the children everywhere

Oh here comes Jesus
from his tomb
With baskets full
of gloom and doom

Hippity, hoppity
what a ******* day!

Ok I’m here
Where are my virgins?
What? You mean those toothless
old ladies with the warts and sagging ****?
No no! I mean the 72 young hotties the
Koran promised would be waiting for me
when I arrived.
What’s that?
You say the Kennedy brothers
got to them first and this is all that’s
left?

**** Americans!

Demons on the perimeter
stalking serenity’s
unsuspecting bliss.
Is this all that's left?
Once mighty defenses
now offer little protection
against these ancient,
clawing phantoms.
Shadows lurking
in the forest of the
psyche, await nightfall's
indifferent embrace
Alas my redeemers.
Tiny painted disks
that beat back
reality's assailants
while extinguishing
the last threads
of creativity that yet
remain.
The strain on tattered
nerves almost too much
to bare
I care not what punishment
is wrought from these efforts
to remain sane in the light
of an unforgiving God.
My mind is mangled beyond
repair.

Who is there left to call 'friend'?

Who before me dared look
into your pale heart and
question your decrees?
Not the Jew
Not the Muslim
Not the Hindu
Not the Buddhist
And certainly not
the Christian
None
Before me there was
no one with the courage
to stand before you,
yet here I am
The Albigensian
The seeker of divinity’s
original light, here before
you to reclaim what was
taken from us by sightless
fanatics nineteen centuries
ago.