Music: miles cooke
Lyrics: Willie McIntyre Jr./miles cooke
SKECH185:
Talking heads told of how the christmas blitz swallowed up Bethlehem/
I was toasting to secular moments while moats filled with the walking dead/
Left the altar steps to the backdrop of a Clinton sax. Haven't looked back like a true follower/
Can only talk about God for a certain distance before a hollow conjuring/
Of Polish Black Madonnas conquering confusion. Browbeating stapled to the consciousness/
One day, I'll be saved and gift smiles to the half interested/
To nod in silence as sheeps bleep or restructure the martyr system/
In the off chance this senseless slaughter is for a greater good/
And not a byproduct of big house propaganda like we're still caught up/
I might be just thirsting for Gospel chops and candor that'll justify the overtime/
The masses need opiates to drag them between weekends/
Peaking through the Overton/
I'm speaking from a seat in the briar patch seeing Sundays best/
I haven't reached once for a rosary or suit. Solomon built his temple with demons/
Analogous to drug money. The Devil didn't change but it felt like I lost paradise in Battling/
Distraught mother. The disappointment of my uncle's ghost. Stuck in a closet/
And the lord doesn't make mistakes but those are the breaks/
Peering through a ring. Fearing the sphere in part/
And parcel is God's will explained through a bullet and a sermon/
And the sunsets, the good word becomes practice part time/
When the ethics of modern man rings of old testament hard lines/
The blind man kills them all because of pillow talk/
While every sign of equal rights turns the woke to visigoths/
Is this the cost of dissonance when the platform is faith?/
A blank canvas where hopes supposed to attach paint at random/
The ramblings of an atheist or magic of a patriot/
As scanned by a child trained to see fireworks as abatement/
So its an AMEN//
miles cooke:
i wish y'all left god out of it
on replay been repenting for my evils
breaking city limits been a crisis
flip like Atreides on the road to damascus
'cause our fathers raised masochists
the future so bright let it burn through a latter-day
heart so cold the new mold formed lazarus
blind faith seemed so inadequate
a part in the sea
will make a 1000 lost souls flee the parishes
i'm perched on a pulpit
the pallbearers spilling roses
y'all mother****ers elevated judas
known to dodge the folks that hold a crucifix
screaming to the sky
on most nights like i hope you bring the locusts
heard me like a whisper in the ocean
might've felt pointless in the moment
yeah no kidding
only needed drugs for ascension
past done asking for forgiveness
chalk it up to kismet
'cause the new york times said god died
she was barely alive
a hail mary but the piss take
christ found god seemed hilarious
lady luck came along for clarity
pour salt that burned like an effigy
one day i'll set fire to my legacy
and memories of trips gone wrong down the one way
diluted for consumption homegrown for the hungry
third wheel for dinner dates
stick around to check if i'm the best wingman since
god's son rose 3 days later rocked like
what an odd job
need a rebate on the contract
now eve's a week late on period
a quiet storm the calms curious
sweeps week at the garden
no need to speak discrete layers
stole gifts out the manger
three kings pocket aces prayer
testament to cruel for the summer
'cause we'll bring the winter later
y'all still waiting on the second coming of christ
like oh my god