HELL'S PATIO 1

There is no rest, nor prize
For those who live life
By the Book of Lies
Translated by those
(In stupid hats and ridiculous clothes)
Who matriculate in Hell
and other such sunny resorts

There is magic though
Let me show you the flame in my hand
Miracles preserved
in the smoke from my barbequecoal
Just look over that way
for one second (ignore the velvet cloth)
and I can provide your answers

Bring your guilt and sorrow
To my patio table
We’ll get drunk on blasphemy
And try to repent
Because it’s all truth and survival
And there is no forgiveness
Only a lifetime of hard labour
With sadistic, conjugal visits
For good behaviour

I’m high on existence
And the shocked look on your faces
As I tell you that God exists
In the hearts of madmen only
 - And that he’s a voyeur
and a wanker, of course

SRWB 2010