I heard the words 
a broken tome of empty hallelujahs  
Orange man  stands beside the  flag
and says , don’t worry, it’s gonna be fine,
magic gonna fix it .
He spoke the words from his 
Dead Sea scrolls 
joked and laughed 
about those stocks going higher 
there’s money in death 
put your money on malaria .
Six score and more , my light 
fading fast , I’ve seen it all,
Elmer Gantry types ,
snake oil salesmen,
pressing the flesh ,
singing a chorus of lies .
Peter Finch got it right 
when he told everyone 
to stick your head out the window,
and yell, 
I'm as mad as hell and 
I’m not gonna take it anymore ,
do it now , clear your throat ,
belt out that song
before your night is done.
Zombies, body snatchers are on 
the prowl, my quiet country town,
with it church bell sounds 
has turned into a movie set, 
fuck you Jack
fuck you Mary 
toilet rolls have gone missing
just as the pasta, rice, and 
every other damn thing.
Fine Christian folk 
who discovered Bela Lugosi.
The King’s checked out ,
his disease a narcissistic  crown ,
while his boys plot for the death 
of his  harrowing sound. 
The mirror speaks ,
pray for your God 
pray for your Buddha 
pray for your check coming in the mail.
The devil on the podium 
is spinning his wheel ,
hey, I saw the Exorcist,
the power of Christ compels you’
but Orangeman still levitating 
sprinkle him with holy water ,
sprinkle him with fear,
the power of Christ compels you’. 
Watch out for  Moloch 
grotesque goes the night
shadows crawl along the watchtowers,
they’re  here, somebody cries, 
run for your lives!
I’ve been on the wagon 
for three months 
not a drop of  holy drink,
gonna break out 
get me a bottle of Jesus 
gonna drink that boy dry.
Heaven’s a game on a machine
I’m aiming for the jackpot 
of heavenly gold so I can bribe
St. Peter of my offending 
soul by
handing out cash to every 
angel felled by their sin   
most foul.
The man raises his arm 
to the altar of air , is that 
a salute to the sun or a
salute to himself ?
Or just another Pentecostal con.
I’m on the hunt for a gun
and a bottle of whisky .
Shut the light,
close the door for
 I’ll be your,
baby tonight.
Watching Sopranos,
Tony chomping on his 
Cuban cigar 
while the ducks have 
gone AWOL .
And outside came 
a strange, mad 
howl. 

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