The Hag's Bacchanal
"Little Hansel, Little Grettel!"
Comes the doctor's siren call
"Oh my dears how you are suffering, here
Just let me make it better. I'll
Get rid of useless pain.
Don't suffer there in vain."
We step in for consultation
"Take your shoes off now!" he says
"For here you walk on sterile ground
And here's a mask to hide your face:
No 'Images' allowed.
Sit down and join the crowd."
"Now Behold: the pain and suffering
Of the kingdoms of this world,
I'll put the Choice into your hand,
Just don't you wish the world was just?
Well all you need is power.
Come pluck the poison flower."
Now the mask that hides his smile
Doesn't hide his fascist eyes.
The fire of a self righteous cause
Excuses all unrighteousness,
"And isn't that just great?
Bow down before the plate."
Now we kneel and face the altar
Of the sin that stains our sheets,
Sing praise that cuts like broken glass
And gurgles out from broken throats,
This razor of hallelujahs
This hollow hole of lust.
Peter Singer breaks the bodies,
Margaret Sanger pours the blood
And a thousand thousand thirsty souls
Come down, drink dark Cocytus' flood.
We drink the offered cup
And on our flesh we sup.
Offer up the bitter apple
Bite and snuff the growing flame
Wipe out any sense of pity
For the flutters deep inside
For this sacrament is sacred
And must not be done in vain
The unworthy must be scoured
Let them wash out with the tide
Burn the bodies of our children
Fuel that comes at little cost
Cut their brains out on the altar
Of the Highest- that I am.
As the smoke begins to rise from
This our natal holocaust
We murder to dissect and serve
The finest forms of man.
Old Pharaoh, drowns the newly born
So's not to hear their screams which cry-
I live…
I live…
I lived.
For this is truly all we know-
That Truth is Power, and Power, Truth.
As Agave we awaken
From our Bacchanalia.
We wipe the gore from spattered hands
And spit the copper from our lips,
We see our slaughtered kid.
Dismembered, bloodless, dead.
Now old Bacchus comes to greet us
But his mask begins to slip
Beneath we see old Yaga grin
And tuck away some organ meat
"You people never stop!"
She'll sell her grisly crop.
We're cast out in outer sunlight
Disbelieving what we've done
And the retching and the cramping comes
To purge ourselves of evidence
Self worship's not a crime
The guilt will pass, in time.
But still, at night I dream.
Why does God keep haunting me,
Doesn't he know he's dead?
Smash the buggers brains out!
Dash him to the floor!
Beat him with an iron axe,
'Till he doesn't move no more.
Go down,
Moses,
Way down to Egypt land.
Tell old
Pharaoh
To let My people go-
Tell old Pharaoh's Court
To let my people go.
We tear out our children,
We drown them to death:
This is my body,
This is my choice.
His body was torn
So his children have Breath:
This is My Body,
This is My choice.
Can I still choose Him?
Will His scars heal my scars?
Will I be thrown into the dark
Where I can hear my baby crawl
And cry to me at night?
This is My Body, broken for you.
This is my Cup, chosen for you.
Come eat, and drink, and live.
