The Mercy Seat
It began when they come took me from my home
And put me in Dead Row.
Of which I am nearly wholly innocent, you know.
And I’ll say it again:
I am...not afraid...to die.
I began to warm and chill
To objects and their fields:
A ragged cup, a twisted mop,
The face of Jesus in my soup,
Those sinister dinner meals,
The meal trolley’s wicked wheels,
A hooked bone rising from my food,
All things either good or ungood.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I’m yearning
To be done with all this measuring of truth.
An eye for an eye
A tooth for a tooth
And anyway I told the truth
And I’m not afraid to die.
Interpret signs and catalogue
A blackened tooth, a scarlet fog.
The walls are bad. Black. Bottom kind.
They are the sick breath at my hind,
They are the sick breath gathering at my hind.
I hear stories from the chamber
How Christ was born into a manger
And like some ragged stranger
Died upon the cross.
And might I say it seems so fitting in its way
He was a carpenter by trade
Or at least that’s what I’m told.
Like my good hand I
Tattooed E.V.I.L. across its brother’s fist
That filthy five! They did nothing to challenge or resist.
In Heaven His throne is made of gold,
where the ark of His testament is stowed,
A throne from which I’m told
All history does unfold.
Down here it’s made of wood & wire
And my body is on fire
And God is never far away.
Into the mercy seat I climb,
My head is shaved, my head is wired,
And like a moth that tries
To enter the bright eye,
I go shuffling out of life
Just to hide in death a while.
And anyway I never lied.
My kill-hand is called E.V.I.L
Wears a wedding band that’s G.O.O.D
‘Tis a long-suffering shackle
Collaring all that rebel blood.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I’m yearning
To be done with all this measuring of truth.
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth.
And anyway I told the truth,
And I’m not afraid to die.
And the mercy seat is burning
And I think my head is glowing
And in a way I’m hoping
To be done with all this weighing up of truth.
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth.
And I’ve got nothing left to lose,
And I’m not afraid to die.
And the mercy seat is glowing
And I think my head is smoking
And in a way I’m hoping
To be done with all these looks of disbelief.
An eye for an eye
And a tooth for a tooth.
And anyway there was no proof
Nor a motive why.
And the mercy seat is smoking
And I think my head is melting
And in a way I’m helping
To be done with all this twisting of the truth.
A lie for a lie
And a truth for a truth.
And I’ve got nothing left to lose,
And I’m not afraid to die.
And the mercy seat is melting
And I think my blood is boiling
And in a way I’m spoiling
All the fun with all this truth and consequence.
An eye for an eye
And a truth for a truth.
And anyway I told the truth,
And I’m not afraid to die.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I’m yearning
To be done with all this measuring of proof.
A life for a life
And a truth for a truth.
And anyway there was no proof,
But I’m not afraid to tell a lie.
And the mercy seat is waiting
And I think my head is burning
And in a way I’m yearning
To be done with all this measuring of truth.
An eye for an eye
And a truth for a truth.
And anyway I told the truth,
But I’m afraid I told a lie.
Do You Love Me? (Pt 2)
Onward and onward and onward I go
Where no man before could be bothered to go
Till the soles of my shoes are shot full of holes
And it's all downhill with a bullet.
This ramblin' and rovin' has taken its course
I'm grazing with the dinosaurs and the dear old horses
And the city streets crack and a great hole forces
Me down with my soapbox, my pulpit
The the theatre ceiling is silver star-spangled
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle
There's a man in the theatre with girlish eyes
Who's holding my childhood to ransom
On the screen there's a death, there's a rustle of cloth
And a sickly voice calling me handsome.
There's a man in the theatre with sly girlish eyes
On the screen there's an ape, a gorilla
There's a groan, there's a cough, there's a rustle of cloth
And a voice that stinks of death and vanilla
This is a secret, mauled and mangled
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle
The walls of the ceiling are painted in blood
The lights go down, the red curtains come apart
The room is full of smoke and dialogue I know by heart
And the coins in my pocket jingle-jangle
As the great screen crackled and popped
The clock of my boyhood was wound down and stopped
And my handsome little body oddly propped
And my trousers right down to my ankles
Yes, it's onward! And upward!
And I'm off to find love
Do you love me? If you do, I'm thankful
This city is an ogre squatting by the river
It gives life but it takes it away, my youth
There comes a time when you just cannot deliver
This is a fact. This is a stone cold truth.
"Do you love me?"
"I love you, handsome"
"But do you love me?"
"Yes, I love you, you are handsome"
Amongst the cogs and the wires, my youth
Vanilla breath and handsome apes with girlish eyes
Dreams that roam between truth and untruth
Memories that become monstrous lies
So onward! And Onward! And Onward I go!
Onward! And Upward! And I'm off to find love
With blue-black braclets on my wrists and ankles
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle...
Black Hair
Last night my kisses were banked in black hair,
And in my bed, my lover, her hair was midnight black,
And all her mystery dwelled within her black hair,
And her black hair framed a happy heart-shaped face,
And heavy-hooded eyes inside her black hair
Shined at me from the depths of her hair of deepest black
While my fingers pushed into her straight black hair,
Pulling her black hair back from her happy heart-shaped face
To kiss her milk-white throat, a dark curtain of black hair
Smothered me, my lover with her beautiful black hair.
The smell of it is heavy, it is charged with life,
On my fingers the smell of her deep black hair.
Full of all my whispered words, her black hair.
And wet with tears and good-byes, her hair of deepest black.
All my tears cried against her milk-white throat
Hidden behind the curtain of her beautiful black hair.
As deep as ink and black, black as the deepest sea,
The smell of her black hair upon my pillow
Where her head and all its black hair did rest.
Today she took a train to the West.
Today she took a train to the West.
Today she took a train to the West...