The book of awful judgment opens up without a gasp
Mothers laugh, knowing they are well within its clasp
Contortionist collectors try to steal the pearls of hate
Knowing that they've bought sorrow
The hangman has died but he hasn't noticed yet
His childhood eyes, black holes they bled
His skin did not shine, it burned against the gate
The lawyer said, "your life was borrowed"
And now, I don’t know what to make
Of all the types of people that sold their graves
Our heads are hallowed, the hammer is strung
On a board labelled, "LIFE WILL COME"
O, sight on the merciful tune
A chandelier's organs that blow at the moon
Now they ask if their turn is soon
To rein and deny the rapture
Then the old man spoke to me
"That's what I'm after"
Then the newborn came to see
What he's captured
Pariahs and their papers try to sell a sacred loan
Their ears are half divided by cloth and colour flown
Their heads, all a-weary to the screaming sky
Which cuts up their last disquiet
The law is painted white as they cultivate their beds
The tar inside their fingers speak of what is never said
One man questions, "No" and another answers, "Why"
Neither proud to imply it
Now, the empress counts her nails
Knowing her head's been impaled by hail
Denim-clad Aztecs, they wear their books
On their crooked teeth, their polyester maid
Forging their holy looks
O, sight on that careless tune
An expat awakens to black monsoons
A convict bites on a bitter spoon
And now they can see the rapture
The flailing firebrand shouts
"Have you been captured?"
And the weeping fireman moans
"Nothing's the matter"
Lazy yellow caper all upon a crippled street
Sober ears, tinnitus- rally for their defeat
Nothing was left by the sons of the seal
Who firmly kept their heads down
"Twenty four hours" screams a nuclear pink sign
Their holstered flowers loaded with aluminum dimes
Bankers help pastors loosen their heels
Until they all kiss the ground
Secular peculiars tattoo holy text
Onto the halls with the nectar of their necks
Selling their brains to flagellated saints
Their words lost to the rain
O, sight on the empty tomb
The thirteenth disciple, the counterfeit rune
Crushed by the first manmade typhoon
And thus began the rapture
The impotent proctor sighs
"You have faltered"
And the last astronomer kneels
Nothing comes after
Mothers laugh, knowing they are well within its clasp
Contortionist collectors try to steal the pearls of hate
Knowing that they've bought sorrow
The hangman has died but he hasn't noticed yet
His childhood eyes, black holes they bled
His skin did not shine, it burned against the gate
The lawyer said, "your life was borrowed"
And now, I don’t know what to make
Of all the types of people that sold their graves
Our heads are hallowed, the hammer is strung
On a board labelled, "LIFE WILL COME"
O, sight on the merciful tune
A chandelier's organs that blow at the moon
Now they ask if their turn is soon
To rein and deny the rapture
Then the old man spoke to me
"That's what I'm after"
Then the newborn came to see
What he's captured
Pariahs and their papers try to sell a sacred loan
Their ears are half divided by cloth and colour flown
Their heads, all a-weary to the screaming sky
Which cuts up their last disquiet
The law is painted white as they cultivate their beds
The tar inside their fingers speak of what is never said
One man questions, "No" and another answers, "Why"
Neither proud to imply it
Now, the empress counts her nails
Knowing her head's been impaled by hail
Denim-clad Aztecs, they wear their books
On their crooked teeth, their polyester maid
Forging their holy looks
O, sight on that careless tune
An expat awakens to black monsoons
A convict bites on a bitter spoon
And now they can see the rapture
The flailing firebrand shouts
"Have you been captured?"
And the weeping fireman moans
"Nothing's the matter"
Lazy yellow caper all upon a crippled street
Sober ears, tinnitus- rally for their defeat
Nothing was left by the sons of the seal
Who firmly kept their heads down
"Twenty four hours" screams a nuclear pink sign
Their holstered flowers loaded with aluminum dimes
Bankers help pastors loosen their heels
Until they all kiss the ground
Secular peculiars tattoo holy text
Onto the halls with the nectar of their necks
Selling their brains to flagellated saints
Their words lost to the rain
O, sight on the empty tomb
The thirteenth disciple, the counterfeit rune
Crushed by the first manmade typhoon
And thus began the rapture
The impotent proctor sighs
"You have faltered"
And the last astronomer kneels
Nothing comes after
( Derrek Estrella )
www.ChordsAZ.com