I don't think I've written as honestly as this in a long time. As my priorities shallow, I become parsimonious with my words. No, lies are not things to belong in art... or whatever the hell this life is.

An American God

Home is a dark place.
Here I stand-
Lonely as hell.
Behold the bastard son of the great frontier.
Rotting away with no
Communist to hate,
No fascist to fear.
Where are the roadless lands to walk alone?
If I am to be alone,
Lonely as hell-
Though in hell at least they have the embers
With which to talk-
I'm lonely as heaven, then
'Cause Daddy's always working in paradise.

Just give me a field.
A field that no one's walked before.
That no one's tried to walk
Or dared- because of common sense.
Just give me a field like that
And I'll walk it-
I'll walk it and heed no price
'Cause I'm just God with clumsy hands.
I'll walk it-

We will.
Me and the old man.
Not the father, but the older man.
The one that's dwelt inside my soul
Since the day I met Bigfoot
Climbing the tree to heaven in the woods.

I suppose the old man is wise-
But who is a freak like me to know?
For all he tells are lies.
Whatever he may be
Be he God or an Imperialist Pig
His head is big
And his heart is bitter like an April snow
That refuses to melt
Before the end of March.

I fear the bitter.

The bitter in their subterranean frozen graves.
So brittle that the light touch
Of the warm hand would shatter them.

That old and bitter hearted fool-
Now he feeds on wasted time.
A parasite is what he is,
A bug with which I must remain
Til the day I become him for good.
And waste a tulip or two
Or perhaps a great bouquet
On a man whose death means
Less than my American currency
Can ever hope to express.

Where are the roadless lands to walk alone?
Are they in the basement
That was built so many years ago
In case the Russians would come?
The door is locked.
Tonight I have to trust the fireman to break it down
And save my life.
But it won't matter
If he fails.
It's his own bloody guilt. Not mine-
For a soul he never knew.

It's a suburban nightmare.
A bad ending to a fairytale without a plot.
Take it or leave it.
Lonely as heaven, I stand-
What troubled soul tonight is crowned
An American God?

I should've been born a hundred years ago and died
In a fantastic fire
So far away from Kansas.
I've never been to Kansas.
I want to go to Kansas tonight.

For home is a dark place.
Take it or leave it,
You have to burn it down to make it bright.
But for now,
The embers of hell will keep me company
Until Daddy comes home from work. (less info)