God and the Monkeys

All the little boys
Staring at the big old blue sky
Distracted by the emptiness
Distracted by the coldness of that colour
That big old God up there
That mighty one, that angry and forgiving one
Looking at those boys
Smiling as they grow in their malice, their lust, envy and greed
Rubbing his hands, rubbing his thighs, rubbing his cock
Every time he says those bright young things
Browsing through pornography, ikea brochures, insurances pamphlets
Every time they forget to call their mother
And now in their age they see no sky
They see no emptiness or cold, cold blue
They have become the flatness, the coolness
And they look for no great forgiving entity
They feel no omnipresent god
No molesting lover there to judge them
To hand out halos, wings or devils horns
No dirty old man to touch them on the thigh
To assure them that all is well, good and forgiveness is secure
Yet every time he says those monkeys
Jerking off in their expensive cars
In the clover by the all girls school
In their prison cells
He smiles as they grow, his children
And he tapes them on his cheap video recorder
And he will tape them until they die
Murdered by the phone booth or broken by old age
And he will look down as they look up and are buried in their holes
Below the big old blue sky
Until he has to look away
Distracted by the emptiness