The Passion

It's like some rotten little joke That your kindergarten teacher spoke All of God's things get broke and it's we must fix 'em The bones in your body, snapped in half The tree on your house while your wife's in the bath You can't help but muffle a laugh at the lucky victims We're all in this game together We're all tallying points as one In the passion of the predicament -- In the Name of the Father and Son -- It don't matter in the eyes of the sun She stays at work later than the rest And fondles the Crucifix on her chest For a boss who's always vexed but there ain't no pardon I wonder what she looks like under the skirt Too much desk, not enough dessert I'll bet her Sundays especially hurt out in her thorny garden He left his only war, an amputee July sparkler eyes, now dark as gangrene Spent the winter of '16 in a coma of contentment But a piece of him back in a Belgian field Keeps ringing out like tensile steel If he could only once more feel what Nature intended Now we stagger home to our borrowed sheds With electrodes they suctioned to our heads I'm lining up for my meds and damn the addiction But at least they left us one TV We can fight over ways we think we're free And when the doctor comes round, we can always renew our prescription We're all in this game together We're all tallying points as one In the passion of the predicament -- In the Name of the Father and Son -- It don't matter in the eyes of the sun