|
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, color 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 was 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 |
|
Wounded womb and scarred and raw(Our goddess gave birth) |
|
Culture, language, myth and law |
|
Wounded womb and scarred and raw(Our goddess gave birth to your god) |
