Psalm - King Missile

Oh, hair of dread, the time is here

Thirty-three, the sheep draw near

With eyes so keen, they cannot hear all the lies that buy their ears

Oh, horse pants, tobacco chest

Oh, sex ghost — oh, nape of neck

The tears are crashing on her breast

The burning bed is out again

If it’s sad, you know it’s true

God is glad on bluer moons

When your room is all you do, it comes to you

Oh, my rank ink instrument

Row my boat towards abstinence

With thoughts as long as cigarettes

Snowed in lips and cross protect

Oh, that birdlike appetite

Do passive fasts make us contrite?

On silken highways of the night

The spiders crawl my candlelight

Where the sun shines in space

God is dumb;

God is great

But does he love us all the same?

Are we okay?

And I cried out your name

Because I loved the sound it made

And because I couldn’t wait to see your face

And nothing ever was the same

And the stars say, 'Look into my eyes.'

But I can’t change if it’s only in my mind

And I love you but I don’t have the right

And I wanted you so bad tonight