Chews the fat with his creator
|
Over breakfast in the sunlight
|
Though when he says grace, when he says grace
|
He feels enveloped like a shadow
|
But there are evenings
|
There are evenings when this decimated world of movement, colour and form
|
Gets thin, and getting thinner
|
When lights are dim, and getting dimmer
|
When nights are grim and they're only getting, only getting grimmer
|
|
As they barter their boulders,
|
and martyr their soldiers,
|
teach a man to tear her fucking head from her goddamn shoulders
|
|
Held into the sun, by the threads of her hair
|
By the threads of her hair
|
By the threads of her hair
|
They impart a secret hatred from their fathers to their heirs.
|
|
In a silence left unbroken, Oh
|
On a bed bound and gagged, bound, bound and gagged
|
with culture, language, myth and law
|
Our goddess gave birth, our goddess gave birth to your god.
|
|
On a bed bound and gagged with culture, language, myth and law
|
from a wounded womb where flesh is scarred and raw
|
Our goddess gave birth to your god
|
Our goddess gave birth to your god
|
Our goddess gave birth to your god
|
Our goddess gave birth to your god. Goddamn!
|
|
Culture, language, myth and law
|
(Our goddess! Gave birth!)
|
Culture, language, myth and law
|
(Our goddess! Gave birth you your god!)
|
|
You wanna see the galaxy?
|
|
-----------------
|
Wretch
|
| Protest The Hero |
