Go unto the mountain
And bring with you your son.
And after the fourth dawn
Bring down on him your brawn.

There will be no flinching,
Your knife against the Sun;
And you thank Adonai
For that *** you rode in on.

With the flesh of your flesh
Trembling in your red hands,
The Strength of the Absurd
Will keep you from your fall.

And as you put your blade
Through your light upon this Earth,
Feel it wet with folly
And drop down to the dirt...

Threre can be no Angels
Along the Interstate,
Hold on to what you love
And let this be your faith.