From the Pagan Christ
Who told me not to fear:
"The Bible's fine
But seek the vine
That grows from your own ear
And pray for those
Who pray for you
And all the other lost
Who went astray
But found a way
Beyond the Pentecost
Beyond all imitation
Of saintliness or sin
There lies a path
Untamed by math
Where you and I fit in
On Easter morn
The angel's horn
Sounds throughout the land,
But few are those
In earthly cloths
Who truly understand
My death was nothing personal
More of an accident,
Though earth did shake
And tablets break
And temple veils were rent
It isn't true
I died for you
Despite the priestly gloss
Amazingly
Through history
The message came across
That everything you're looking for
Was with you all along
'Be a light unto thyself'
Is hid in every song
And heaven is upon the Earth
For you to see or not
So live, forgive
And love enough
That you don't get caught"
With that, the Master vanished
And I was left alone
To gather all the candy eggs
Scattered through my home.
2 comments:
I can't tell you the tune I'm humming that to, but it sounds familiar. Greensleves?
I was actually listening to AC DC's "Back in Black" on the radio when I started writing it.
But I think it follows the scanning and cadence of Metallica's "Master of Puppepts".
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