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 gir...