The Fever Came and the Good Lord Mopped His Brow

The fever came and the good lord mopped his brow.

The sterile little needle punches a nice round bloody hole
I had to see the doctor because the sweat had grown so cold
I’ve got a ten pound prescription worth a bag of brown and gold
Now I have seen Christ Jesus dying to save our corrupted soul
I saw him when I took those tablets and the white light warmed me whole
I woke up in a hospital they said “you have got to see the doctor because you’ve 
got problems these drugs will cure I’m told”
So I sat in a hospital till they thought I was ready then I went into a hostel were 
the kids had drugs of many fold
The sterile little needle punches a nice round bloody hole and I guess that’s just 
like Jesus trying in a world that’s evil and we’re all made from the very same 
mould
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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