Belle's Palsy

(Because Darkness is the Primordial State.)

www.youtube.com/watch?v=NnS4pWihJTs

"My arms shake, I can't feel my legs

My skin flakes most every day

Leaves a mess of a man

In a sea full of sin

The storm is coming in

I open my mouth and find little voice

I was meant to love you, I don't have much choice

But I will sing this song and I'll sing it with joy

The storm is coming in

So I hold my breast

Imagining

The tenor and the bass singing

We'll beat our breast and sing our song

And whip ourselves to the candlelight

And this song is to my enemy

This song is for my priest

And this song is for my eagerness

In my ill prepared feast

And like this rain

I move it along

Remembered only through my pathetic song

But the wind it howls and the mobs that roar

The storm is coming in

I collect your name in a masons jar

Places on my shelf and handled with care

But sometimes the thunder shakes them close to the edge

And the storm is coming in

So it's broken glass on a hardwood floor

Once was here, now no more

It seems

So I take the glass and stab the throat

So I can hit the holy note from my hymns

And this song is for the prophet

This song is for the poor

And this song is for the holy men

Who abuse our sacred words

And I'll get down on my knees

Hallelujah

I cry out your name

So I hold my arms

Imagining the tenor and the bass singing

And we beat our breast and sing our songs

And whip ourselves tot he candlelight

And this song is to my enemy

And this song is for my priest

And this song is for my eagerness

An ill prepared feast

And I'll get down on my knees

Hallelujah

I cry out your name

And I thank you

And I love you

But I must make you understand

I have become less than a man

And the storm is coming in"

--- "Bell's Palsy", Reverend Glasseye