a street psalm blues
by Bad Music
Sunday, June 23, 2002
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oh, God, please, you must understand
I just don't want to pray to you with shit on my hands
I'm not screaming catch phrases with a sign in the street
but I dream of doves on my shoulders and wake with pigeons at my feet
am I another crazy fool indirectly claiming to be an apostle lost and found
Libera me, Domine, deliver me, whoever I am, homeward bound
and, oh, Religion, she is a well intentioned and beautiful prostitute
and exploitation, he is her greasy mitted pimp
but who am I? I still pick up sea shells and claim to hear the sea.
maybe I should get down on my knees and listen where it counts, sometime.