When pushed, i ‘ll describe myself as spiritual. But church cured me of religion. Each little old lady (or man) is their own Jehovah, looking you up and judging you down. And the kids band into exclusive cliques that don’t want no part of you. So i can get a little sacrosanct with your bitter little host.
A Christmas Miracle?
A baby was born without a father or room... Is that a miracle? A Christmas miracle? Then what about newborns surviving Dumpster tombs? Is each a Jesus Christ? At even half the price? [chorus] I wanna believe what i can't even see, So touch now my eyes with Your epiphanies; Know me and show me my Galilee And i will kneel down in Your archdiocese. I pushed all the buttons in the elevator... Is that a miracle? A Christmas miracle? I dined well and dashed pell mell past the headwaiter... It was no loaves and fish! Nor from some divine wish! [chorus] It smells six-six-six to believe tricks; I'll see your Scrooge turned and raise you (a) Fezziwig; See through spirits... but Watson & Crick... Isn't your cross just another megalith? I fell in and was loved by the perfect woman... Was that a miracle? A holy miracle? I never was worthy but rose to the romance... Is love the true zenith? Why we strive for the myth? [chorus] Life is a jumble, but i'll give it a tumble: 'Good is God and bad is us'--don't be a dumbbell! I rejoice what I got--no mumbles-- But drop the black and white--what would Jesus fumble?
This feels like the refrain is the verse, and vice verses… but I do like some of the wordplay and provocation. Some of it is still too obtuse though. I may have to revisit this. Lively folk pop? Or just garage punk?