Psalms

Psalms

I come from a land where they're worshipping drink again
  come from a land where they're worshipping drink again
God is dead
God is dead
So let's have a drink down at Finnegan's Wake
You could get so drunk, you might even get laid
because God is dead
God is dead
I'm tired of the guilt felt from being intellectual
It's hard to be human, but Jesus, an artist too
God is Dead
God is Dead
When did these people once filled up with bile
become so much softer, excepting denial
that God is dead
God is dead
Run away, go away, build blocking fences
It doesn't matter, they'll be consequences
because God is dead
God is dead
If we are not human than we must be animals
clawing and tearing, honing survival skills
God is dead
God is dead
The world let us know this and we have to deal with it
over exposed and still we feel so boxed in
It's disjointed panels, labyrinth, hall of mirrors
trapped in a funhouse with white noise and flashing things
I not a singer but I feel I must sing all this
It's all I am, all I see, All I am dealing with
Is anyone listening, paying attention
   anyone listening, paying attention
Does anyone give a shit, anymore, anyway?
Are we strapped to this bomb with no chance of an escape?
God is dead
God is dead
I hope there is someone who noticed its beautiful
all of it, all of it, all of it, beautiful
I noticed, but I just can't sing it today
I hope to be able to sing it someday
And when that day comes it will be so damned glorious
        when that day comes it will be so damned glorious
        when that day comes it will be so damned glorious
I don't think all of us are going to make it, though.

Aaron C. Molden