Natural child
Terrible child
Not your mothers
Or your fathers child
You're our child
Screamin' wild
the sun from a cloud sinks into her eyes
the rain from a tree soaks into her mind
Oh great creator of being
Grant us one more hour
To perform our art
And perfect our lives
we can do it on a sunny floor
and make any sound
or movement that comes
roll on our backs screaming
with mirth, glad in the guilt
of our madness.
we could exist like innocent trolls
propagate our revels
and give the finger to the gods
in our private bedrooms
lets rather, maybe, get fucking
out in the open, and by swelling
jubilantly, magnificently,
END THEM.
LETS REINVENT THE GODS, AND ALL THE MYTHS OF THE AGES.
