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By coujeaux Date: 2003 Feb 25 Comment on this Work [[2003.02.25.15.20.26569]] |
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Sun's a-burnin' with brimstone red, an' I hear a prophet say our end is nearin', It'll have to wait on me, 'cause I'm not lettin' some Apocalypse start interferin'. So much left to do, no time to spare; my conquerin' of the world is incomplete, Why should thermonuclear skies interrupt my ascension toward a catbird seat? Go on and hide from the fallout; got my cooler and sunglasses for that display, What better method to enjoy a lightshow some zealots call our Judgment Day? Monkey seethe, monkey's due; mankind is afraid of the shadows of his doubt, If you don't believe what I tell you my version of God will surely cast you out. Our explanation for why unbelievers prosper is how they're in for His surprise, For the moment they meet my Maker they discover where the truth truly lies. No weaponry on Earth could match the power of my conviction of your belief, Come day of reckoning the punishment for your heresies will be unholy grief. Chips on shoulders where consciences once perched, preaching tolerant you, How arrogant we become lest we forget we're evened once death comes due. Having heard all versions of the gospel, I admit that I'll never really be sure, Just who has it right or whereabouts someone's might left this all so obscure. Ah, karmachismo; nothing lower than inhumanity for high or mighty acclaim, Now excuse me whilst I chuckle to myself at how much we share the blame. |