the altar

let me lead you to the altar
let me gaze into your eye
let us speak no more of heaven
for you know it is a lie
and the words are oh so heavy
as they dance upon my tongue
remind me of the foolishness
I showed when I was young
and the days echo each other
as the nights of ebon black
care not for the future
as they’re stretched upon the rack
laugh, I could have killed you
for all your thoughtless deeds
which served no seeming purpose
nor satisfied my needs
but these are not your problems
though others deem them so
nothing but some doggerel
written in the melting snow
gentle sir they called me
though my hands were dripping red
with the blood of slaughtered children
whose faith had long been dead
but search and you may find it
the source of all our woe
draped upon the altar
where you and I must go
to wash away our freedom
and the sins we could not bear
let us speak at last of heaven
and pray that we’ll get there



what a man I could have been
had you not held me back
every time I built up steam
you’d knock me off my track

I could have been the perfect man
so wise and brave and strong
but every time you came too close
my plans would all go wrong

yes, what a man you could have been
if things were not the same
but fairness is as fairness does
and I am not to blame

if everything stood on its head
and we rewrote god’s plan
you’d maybe be a winner then
or, with luck, just a man

cut out

pass me the bottle mother
your darling young daughter is here
and I’ve got such a thirst
I could drink ’til I burst
so pass me the bottle my dear

sing me a lullaby mother
I find that I can’t get to sleep
so sing me a song
of how you did me wrong
and I can drift off as I weep

tell me my future mother
tell me who I’m going to be
the places I’ll go
and the people I’ll know
then tell me how I can break free

then call me a surgeon mother
ask her to bring a sharp knife
with a soup├žon of skill
she can forgo the kill
and cut me right out of your life