Undertow

There's a shadow just behind me,
shrouding every breath I take,
making every promise empty,
pointing every finger at me.
Waiting like a stalking butler
who upon the finger rests.
Murder now the path called "must we"
just before the son has come.
Jesus, won't you fucking whistle
something but the past and done?
Why can't we not be sober?
I just want to start this over.
Why can't we drink forever.
I just want to start things over.

I am just a worthless liar.
I am just an imbecile.
I will only complicate you.
Trust in me and fall as well.
I will find a center in you.
I will chew it up and leave,
I will work to elevate you
just enough to bring you down.

Trust me.

Mother Mary won't you whisper
something but what's past and done.

Trust me.

I want what I want.



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Here comes the water.
All I knew and all I believed
are crumbling images
that no longer comfort me.
I scramble to reach higher ground,
some order and sanity,
or something to comfort me.

So I take what is mine,and hold what is mine,
suffocate what is mine, and bury what's mine.
Soon the water will come
and claim what is mine.
I must leave it behind,
and climb to a new place now.

This ground is not the rock I thought it to be.

Thought I was high, and free.
I thought I was there
divine destiny.

I was wrong.
This changes everything.

The water is rising up on me.
Thought the sun would come deliver me,
but the truth has come to punish me instead.

The ground is breaking down right under me.
Cleanse and purge me
in the water.



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And the angel of the lord came unto me,
snatching me up from my place of slumber.
And took me on high, and higher still
until we moved to the spaces betwixt the air itself.
And he brought me into a vast farmlands of our own midwest.
And as we descended, cries of impending doom rose from the soil.
One thousand, nay a million voices full of fear.
And terror possessed me then.
And I begged, "Angel of the Lord, what are these tortured screams?"
And the angel said unto me,
"These are the cries of the carrots, the cries of the carrots!
You see, Reverend Maynard,
tomorrow is harvest day and to them it is the holocaust."
And I sprang from my slumber drenched in sweat
like the tears of one million terrified brothers and roared,
"Hear me now, I have seen the light!
They have a consciousness, they have a life, they have a soul!
Damn you! Let the rabbits wear glasses! Save our brothers!"
Can I get an amen? Can I get a hallelujah? Thank you Jesus.
Life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on life feeds on........
This is necessary.
It was daylight when you woke up in your ditch.
You looked up at your sky then.
That made blue be your color. You had your knife there with you too.
When you stood up there was goo all over your clothes.
Your hands were sticky.
You wiped them on your grass, so now your color was green.
Oh Lord, why did everything always have to keep changing like this.
You were already getting nervous again.
Your head hurt and it rang when you stood up.
Your head was almost empty.
It always hurt you when you woke up like this.
You crawled up out of your ditch onto your gravel road and began to walk,
waiting for the rest of your mind to come back to you.
You can see the car parked far down the road and you walked toward it.
"If God is our Father," you thought, "then Satan must be our cousin."
Why didn't anyone else understand these important things?
You got to your car and tried all the doors.
They were locked. It was a red car and it was new.
There was an expensive leather camera case laying on the seat.
Out across your field, you could see two tiny people walking by your woods.
You began to walk towards them.
Now red was your color and, of course,
those little people out there were yours too.



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And the angel of the lord came unto me. Snatching me up from my place of slumber, and took me on
high, and higher still until we moved through the spaces betwixt the air itself. And he brought me into a
vast farmland of our own midwest. And as we descended, cries of impending doom arose from the
soil. One thousand, nay, a million voices full of fear. And terror possessed me then. And I begged:
'Angel of the lord, what are these tortured screams?' And the angel said unto me: 'These are the cries
of the carrots. The cries of the carrot. You see, reverend Maynard, tomorrow is harvest day, and to
them, it is the holocaust.' And I sprang from my slumber drenched in sweat with the tears of one million
terrified brothers and roared: 'Hear me now, I have seen the light. They have a consciousness! They
have a life! They have a soul. Damn you! Let the rabbits wear glasses. Save our brothers. Can I get an
amen. Can I get a haleluia. Thank you, Jesus.'


This is necessary.
Life feeds on life.

It was daylight when you woke up in your ditch. You looked up at your sky. That made blue be your
color. You had your knife there with you, too. When you stood up, there was goo all over your
clothes. Your hands were sticky. You wiped them on your grass, so now your color was green. Oh,
lord, why did everything have to keep changing like this. You were already getting nervous again. Your
head hurt, and it rang when you stood up. Your head was amost empty. It always hurt you when you
woke up like this. You crawled up out of your ditch, onto your gravel road, and you began to walk,
waiting for the rest of your mind to come back to you. You could see the car parked far down the
road, and you walked toward it. If god is our father, you thought, then Satan must be our cousin. Why
didn't anyone else understand these important things. When you got to your car, you tried all the doors.
They were locked. It was a red car, and it was new. There was an expensive leather camera case
laying on the seat. Out across your field you could see two tiny people walking by your woods. You
began to walk towards them. Now red was your color. And of course, those little people out there
were yours, too.

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You crawled away from me.
Slipped away from me.
I tried to keep a hold,
but there was nothing I could say.
You slid and crept away
and there was nothing I could say.
So what you're trying to say
is you don't wanna play.
But what you want and what you need
doesn't mean fuck to me.
Because I can see your back is turning.
If I could I'd stick the knife in.

This is love.
This is my love for you.

Get up.

Now.

Say you won't go.



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