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I would not have been bothered
if in bearing the cross, you intended
to betray your creed from the very beginning.
And all the lies and suzerainty
would not have killed nations
if you'd not said them so plainly.
Oh, apostate, grand deceiver,
I wish you but the best.
Though there may come a day when you renounce your ways,
no word, no gesture can repent for my bloodshed.
Years, long years, lived in shade;
mausoleum walls grown over with moss.
You cannot reclaim the innocent, slain,
and buried in the eternal dark shadow of the cross.
Oh apostate, who killed the redeemer,
may you fare well on your path!
As student and teacher, with corpses beneath her,
may you fade long 'to the past!
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The telephone screamed out in the dead of night,
as if waking from a nightmare and praying everything's alright.
I walked to the phone in your plaid pajama pants.
I picked up the receiver, but before I got a chance
to speak,
to ask if you had saved our lives,
I heard your voice on the line,
crying out to me; you warned me they were coming tonight.
The phone clattered to the floor as I dashed back down the hall,
lunging for the battered Winchester on the wall.
I stole out the back door and headed for the coast,
shrouded by the collar of my army surplus coat.
I climbed
the staircase up the lighthouse,
and staked out at the top,
staring down the scope at my house
as a truck pulled up out front.
Jeremiah 29:11; John 14:27.
I am not a man of God. I have done what I have done.
I did what I had to, and none of it for fun -
but pleasure in the work promotes a job well done.
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My limbs keep steadily losing feeling.
Every hair on my body stands on end.
The moon relays to me the sunlight that it's stealing.
The abyssal figures dodge into the shadows again.
I am armed,
I am dangerous.
Blood-starved, wanted,
Hopeless, faceless.
The hunters prowl the rooftops come each sundown.
Laser-guided rifles wrest control of weary streets.
A single refugee still haunts the ghost town,
defiant in the drone of marching feet.
Mercy, pleading mercy.
A remnant of a memory burnt away.
You and I both know they've come to hurt me;
I cannot promise safety if you stay.
I am armed.
I am dangerous.
Blood-starved, wanted,
Hopeless, faceless.
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4. |
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I had always had you to guide me.
You had always stood by my side.
The shining jewels of callousness are blinding,
and I left you with no one to hold you while you died.
The place of penitence rests high upon the mountains
should your disciples ever wish to seek me out.
The arachnids in these parts roam, free and boundless.
They kill without a shadow of a doubt.
I chalked directions on the biggest rock I could find.
I laid the stone under the overhang by the waterside.
If it rains, the stone should remain dry,
but God alone wills the rising of the tide.
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5. |
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The hot wind whipped flecks of blacktop into my skin
and deep crimson red started flowing from within.
I heard the animalistic roaring of the pistons down beneath me,
and as they exhaled, a thick black smoke engulfed me completely.
I'll keep burning on.
Later on, I tend my injuries in the dark,
cover my skin in gauze pads where it's been flayed apart.
I look like a patchwork puppet by the time I'm done,
and prepare to begin again come the dawning of the sun.
I'll keep burning on.
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6. |
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7. |
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8. |
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9. |
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released March 16, 2017
Tracks 1-5 written, recorded, everythinged by the Papersnares
Tracks 6-9 written, recorded, everythinged by Davey Halfbeard
daveyhalfbeard.bandcamp.com
