No Laws for the Wicked

 

1.

Girth your waist in dismay, say your prayers insane;

those, who do wickedness, glimpse in the void, back.

To back up your logs, what saw a thorn in vain –

scratching at he Heavens Door, knocking pained:

“Why did the bus-driver got in but no Preacher, Fuck!”

The Heavens for the Fighters not for the sitting Duck.

Give account of yours, for you shall not pass muster, Cain!

2.

Outlaws of Science, who you silence the faithful resolve;

making sources and Sorceries, what the Rod of Aaron hath not

eaten, Socratic Vows broken, to give Plato a valve!

Revolving the doors into yellow brick walls, to fortify Salve –

“Nothing is Real, everything judged, propaganda or bot!”

Post-Modern the modem stalking the forget me Knots;

in a town there the shadows frown at the slip-away involved.

3.

Then the Sound of Sirens, breaks up Serene vibrancy;

dragging through the Mudd, what hath been crossed

through your Heart, silence is golden, talk silver fancy;

guilty grins, messed up confessions, scream Clancy!

The hunt is On: John Wick or Jason Bourne, who's Gross;

when the established seek for Kate Moss and Hugo Boss.

Choose the salty way, through fire, brimstone, Penance Y!

4.

Be the Nigger or be the Wretch; the Hobo, Outlaw, Hellspawn;

In Jesus, you are Saint – I'll take you to Excelsior, Ultima Thule!

Jesus has made a Supper for you, reach out for Japha, Pawn;

the Apron shall be your mantel, be like Elisha – Respawn!!

The world wants to deepen their thoughts, to take it Cooler;

bouncing you at the horns and one-shotting Yamcha a ruler:

Precept upon Precept, gravel in the blues, while mowing Fawns.

5.

Don't matter, where you been, who Bibled through the street;

who lost their faith and taxes, ran from the collector.

Divorced from sanity and wives, turning a white sheet.

Pilfered spokesmen wanton to button your praise bleak;

they smile in front of you, stab backs and chase the silver spurs!

Saying: Peace and Word, but their eyes like daggers cursed;

Never gather with the Established and belong amongst Elites!

6.

Who of them, has not killed Jesus, shed blood of the Prophets;

all, who stood witness, in the muddy dirt and gallows rain!

Looking for things, you don't know, and hath not confessed;

giving traitors pardons but leaving the fallen soldier unblessed!

Its time to Shatter the Walls of Babylon, break the chains;

to the Blues; the Rap; the Punk; the Rock'n'Troll – assail!

Shoot the Moon, Go to Hell, release, who's in bondage, gets!!

7.

Stomp your feet and praise the Man, who comes in Thee;

To do the narrow path, then nobody left-right nor center.

Staged actors only find dragons, dwarfed by debris;

in the dead of night, clinging for asses, glossed free.

The game of Cronies, to balcony for the dispenser;

holding the candle under the Bushel and salt amended!

You seek the Iron Price, and Trust in God, Deus Vult, Be!