Becoming All Things

Alright my love, our time is up
I need you to be ready
The war is coming, the army up and running
And you know I’ll go too
The night is young, yes I’m watching you shift
Those stones inside your belly
And hiding my eyes, sure you’d recognize
The mutiny in them swelling
See I gave my heart to some mad God
Never cared for the incision
And the prison’s dark as I slip between these bars
And greet these visions
Just the stockbrokers and the monsignors
Chasing prostitutes through the Bowery
Past the Dow and Jones
Mondays junkie models bones feed the furnaces on Fridays
And the climbers wake in the streets having fallen
Back down into town from the mountains surrounding
And a two dollar Staple Singers tape plays from somewhere
I think that it’s Freedom Highway but I ain’t sure
And the vendors sell pride but what transfers is hate
Some lie that you’re better or normal or safe
And terror’s a sea that just swells inside each of us
Just within reach of us, keeping our peace from us
And the city’s lit up like a fireworks display
Where tonight it’s the head of this state on a plate
And St. Francis Zookeeper minding the grave
Poor Jesus he just wanders round in that cage
Becoming all things…