We laughed out loud at the believers,
as they thumped their sacred book.
But Revelation has come to pass,
a little help was all it took.
We’re brimmin’ full of fateful hubris,
playing God from nine to five.
Hungry for fame, or driven by hunger:
innocently committin’ crime.

Four horsemen ridin’ outta the pages of the Bible,
this time it’s gonna getcha: this time it’s gone


We passed peak peak, full speed ahead,
nowhere to go but down.
Our Lords and masters livin’ it up,
left the poor scratchin’ around.
Same old, same old, from Adam to now,
like a tired scratched vinyl.
Wolves in sheep’s clothes, eyein’ the herd:
restless, manic, homicidal.



Georgia’s stones and voodoo bones,
it’s all there plain to see!
The evil hide, let their storm clouds ride,
so God help you and me!



©11.2.2020 Andrew Robert Chapman

adj. let something ride to leave it undisturbed; to make no attempt to change or do anything about it.

Each dance an’ jig, each brush with death,
makes it feel good to be alive.
Lets you know you’re still alive.

like an old scratched vinyl.
the innocent commit the crime.
left the rest scratchin’ around.
they’re hungry homicidal.
Can’t do the time? Don’t do the crime!
But the prophecies have come to pass,
But the prophecies have come true,
Each an’ ev’ry brush with death,
how good it is to be alive.

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