Saturday, September 5, 2009

Jesus Gave Me Water (riff on a Sam Cooke gospel song)


Behind these walls all down these halls there’s a raging sound of waterfalls

It’s ripping through our veins like the story teller’s spell

It’s ripping through our ventricles like pumping crumping tentacles

It’s raging through ours cyphers cuz it is was not in the well

In crowded streets through cracked concrete the rain falls while our parents sleep

And the souls of the departed seem to come back here to dwell

We pour libations beneath train stations for the slain of all our nations

Pouring out the water that was not in the well

With more proof than 40 proof, it’s enough to blow right off the roof

It’s the liquid inversion of the daily grind in hell

It’s the weekend break from the devil’s fake piss tests that they make us take

It’s the ecstasy of moonshine light that was not in the well

In third world slums where the rivers run with the residue of cracker guns

And the very stones are sold off before their stories tell

Where fresh water’s jacked and throttled mothers fill their babies bottles

With crucified water that was not in the well