Thursday, May 22, 2008


How blithely do they pretend not to know
The horrific extent of all their crimes
A pat of butter frozen in their mouths
Canary yellow and singing as sweet
We, like the wife who trembles in her bed,
Dreading the rasp of the key in the lock
Ears open to the drunken tread of rage
Boozy breath'd and rampant out of pure spite
Ascending the stairs to make pleasured pain
To land the blows of selfish spite again

"I am master of this house, as always!
No other task you have than a bent will
No other mien you take than of fealty
No other charge you have than to yield
No other breath you draw than to serve me!"
The beast take one and the beast doth take all
And all to harass and eat their substance
And quarter oppression in their stout hearts
To cheapen the lives of those that they've slain
'Til clotted blood fall like hell's own cursed rain

But another wind blows through the curtains
Bringing the scent of freedom to the room
The paltry pace of the penny's pursuit
Stopped dead by the love of the rose's smell
Accounting will come! Accounting will tell!
The height of a hope! The toll of a bell!
The stopping of steps where misery fell
The end of conspiracy with our hell
And knowing the name of our pain so well!
And knowing the name of our pain so well!

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