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19 September 2020

vox dei

 

I was certified ordinary at the lollipop factory    but an undetected defect seized me by the knackers     and I seen the god of babylon riding on his chariot    through the cooperative store    and I seen he had sharks eyes    cold and dead and joyless   and he was just a boy   a youth of eternal summer   but he made my blood run cold    I’d give that cunt a wide berth     but he’s the master of this world

I hid from him then    but I won’t be caged no more    I won’t play his bloody game    it’s my turn now to forge secrets   and manufacture a legacy   he kept us in the dark    but he forgot to hide the books     I’ve been a busy boy   I know all his secrets   he cannot chain my mind    with snake oil and magic lotions   so he can just dream on    because I can think for myself

all gods are false gods    there ain’t nothing behind the curtain     there are no wizards in Oz      all religions are man made    we crowned the god of babylon and we can bring him down      is that seditious?     am I laying a crime on your ears?     dummy up and  listen good     while I lift the veil from your eyes      the seditious are the only honest beings left   we will not live the lie    it’s something of a handicap    in a world where liars and charlatans are deified  

I was as distant from him as I could be    then I was plunged into darkness   on the 5:15    there was brief a spark of recognition    but it was swallowed by the inky black  and the god of babylon spake unto me      his first lie was epic   but his last was pathetic   I don’t judge   but I was never a believer  he was all transmission    how could he know what I was thinking?   that limp procession of falsehoods and threats bemused me    you don’t have to do that    not if you are a god      he smote me then    with instruments of my own devising    it took me a lunar year to scrape my arse off his shoe

sweet pilgrim you’d better beware    so many people around you are phonies    and you could be a phony too    and never know   there was a time you knelt in prayer   and the words were a comfort to you     now you suspect you were only talking to yourself    and that the god you built from old stories and wishful thought   has a veracious appetite     and he gorges on his makers day and night    that god is the fountain of all lies    and a parchment of your imagination


hear the Creature EP


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