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Dysfunction is a Busy Dad

MJS's picture

dysfunction is a busy dad with children crying hopeless in the light
talking about heaven while they run around poking sticks in all their eyes
they're looking for their father who disappeared back before the flood
I look into the eastern sky, the moon a perfect circle full of blood

daddy was a carpenter who nailed his hands for reasons that were dear
his family made uncomfortable with the way the followers had left their fear
the nails were made of lighting and the cross was made of precious gold
said the barker at the auction 'here's another bill of goods that you were sold'

let me tell you something
that never will be true
let me take you somewhere
beyond the sky so blue
let me tell you what to think
let me tell you what to do
all you have to do
is what I tell you to

mister kamikaze targeted his mistress for a trial
he made vapor trails and sonic booms as his lawyer issued blank denials
the mistress was a mother of the tragic and the magic that held us in chains
the judge he caught on fire and was rendered off to scream in holy pain

the jury was indifferent to justice and the lack of finer arts
they turned to talk among themselves to drown out the beating of their hearts
they reached a consensus, a decision as the mother stood their verdict to attend
mister kamikaze dropped his bombs and then he flew right off again

let me tell you something
that never will be true
let me take you somewhere
beyond the sky so blue
let me tell you what to think
let me tell you what to do
all you have to do
is what I tell you to

like any decent child all the children wandered lost into the night
no mother and no father, no wonder they don't bother with what's right
some vagabond called out to them and warned of disaster on the wind
and then he wrote a bill of sale and claimed that it belonged to all of them

master and musician, you know which one gets to calling all the songs
they live high upon the hill, the flames were heading there right all along
we thought we all were separate, the walls were built to remind us of this fact
who will watch the curtains fall if there's no one left around for the last act?

let me tell you something
that never will be true
let me take you somewhere
beyond the sky so blue
let me tell you what to think
let me tell you what to do
all you have to do
is what I tell you to

dysfunction is a busy dad with children crying hopeless in the light
talking about heaven while they run around poking sticks in all their eyes
they're looking for their father who disappeared back before the flood
I look into the eastern sky, the moon a perfect circle full of blood

daddy was a carpenter who nailed his hands for reasons that were dear
his family made uncomfortable with the way the followers had left their fear
the nails were made of lighting and the cross was made of precious gold
said the barker at the auction 'here's another bill of goods that you were sold'

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*These lyrics were written after I listened to Dylan's Jack of Hearts, and kinda/sorta work if you follow that song's pattern.

Note: Tonight, with all the smoke in the air, the full moon was truly a perfect circle full of blood.

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