Where Gargoyles Gather

This land is my land Happy place in this book of sorrows Where gargoyles gather Yesterday, today and tomorrow And never have to prepare faces To meet the faces they meet Mostly because as faces go, we have none Ask Eliot, we have been called inebriate Full of new wine, but there is more I always say there is always more The analysis is wrong of course And only those in the know would know Like I said, Lord, we are here A gathering of voices, not disembodied But disregarded, the sight of us vurulent The sight of us appals a few. Turbulence The needles in their misery meters Rush to the easiest conclusions Masses of contusion will cause confusion Before they know me they judge me And then they downplay their judgement But why should I complain and sound plaintive In the words of Lord Faarquar It's rude enough being in the space we share