Heretics

bored holes through our tongues

to sing a song about it

held our breath for too long

‘til we’re half sick about it

tell us what we did wrong

and you can blame us for it

turn a clamp on our thumbs

we’ll sew a doll about it

and tell us all about it

how ‘bout some credit now

where credit is due

for the damage that we’ve done

wrought upon ourselves and others

with a slow and vicious gun

and although pratfalls can be fun

encores can be fatal

and there i hear you say

thank god it’s fatal

not shy

not shy of fatal

thank god

wait just a second now

it’s not all that bad

are we not having fun?

you’re making mountains of handkerchiefs

where the mascara always runs

so be careful when you’re done you’re bound to get post-natal

what did i just hear you say?

thank god it’s fatal

we don’t want to hear the sound of a door

and we don’t want to read the signs that you bore

you know the kind of sign you hang on the door

saying we’ll be back what a crack

don’t you think we might have heard that before?

*alien*