We pierced the side of the idol
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With the sharpened neck of an electric guitar
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Bottled the water from the wound
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Holy relic- the essence of star
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But what does she care, it's just another blank stare
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To a world that loves and hates you on a dare
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Where the orphans ask the widows the meaning of 'fair'
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So let this be a drink to quench this uncontrollable thirst
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Tie the belt a notch tighter around anxious hearts set to burst
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And when this once at least gilded cage has been
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Stripped bare of flesh cold and numb
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What have you done, Mark David Chapman?
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Let all the desperate hours of boredom
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Lead you to some meaning of truth
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Bumps and bruises and notebooks for heaven's jury as proof
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The emotions were shrink wrapped, sold as scraps
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Choose any scene from the vending machine
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Somewhere lost in the night, a satellite transmitted dream
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Industrial revolutions of the soul interchangeable hearts it's manufacturing
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If we wear out each other it's o.k., just go buy another
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So let this be a drink to calm the shaking hands that you've found
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Let this be release, forever unwound.
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-----------------
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Mark David Chapman
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| And You Will Know Us by the Trail of Dead |
