Lyrics

Talkin' Divinity Blues

Long ago, before there was time
Before there was reason, before there was rhyme
Before the ragged, mythical lines
Of Adam and his girlfriend

A man of eight-hundred and seventy-three
Created every fish in the sea
The eagle, salesman, cat and flea
Poseidon and his mermen

He sent his son down from his cloud
To try and make his image proud
But fools and prophets ain’t allowed
To live among eachother

They separated him from his views
Subjected to devout abuse
And one short night he called a truce
And cried out for his mother

Matthew, Paul, George, and John,
Each wrote about his favorite son,
But four books doth not make one,
Nor wrongs ever make a right.

Then ninety-nine thousand distinct ministries
Each with their own acclaimed expertise
Preach what they preach and see what they see
With God obscuring their sight

Still the father’s haunted, holy book
Read loudly by an ordained crook
Sat upon its shelf and took
No one to hell or heaven

It settled, sifted like a sieve
The sins by which devout men live
And mostly taught them to forgive
A crime or two or seven

But still this prince of Kingdom Come
When asked again what had become
Of his old, idyllic slum
Laughed just like before

And He Spoketh…

“To Governors across the South
And all other agents about
Keep my name out of your mouth
When you send my sons to war.”

So let this be a lesson clear
For everybody who’s still here
With unjust cause left to fear
Reason, rhyme, or laughter

Leave prophets with no alibi
Alone and safely let to lie
Their words and bodies left to die
Happily ever after.

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