|
Father, father, come see what I've built |
|
Made civilization out of the Nile silt, |
|
Built your monuments out of my brother's bones, |
|
Exalted your words in flesh-bound tomes |
|
It's hard enough being born in the first place, |
|
Who would ever want to be born again? |
|
It's taken this long just to get to this place, |
|
So what's the point in ever being born again? |
|
Papa, papa, come and watch me play |
|
The whole world before me I laid to waste |
|
Built Jerusalem out of these hidden worlds, |
|
But I won't share it with the other boys and girls |
|
More embarrassed than I'd hope to admit, |
|
The living embodiment of perfect. |
|
A reversed Oedipal complex based on power and not on the sex. |
|
Daddy, daddy, are you proud of me? |
|
I did it all for you because of what I believe |
|
The sins of he father carried out by the son |
|
From Cain and Abel until the last living life is done |
|
Again we stand slack-jawed |
|
As our fates are moved by the hand of God |
|
A God is what we see as we stare into his Papal eyes. |
