Oh that nice old woman up above
She looks on down and says
‘History’s whores are your future loves’
Brings that chair down with a great shove
‘And keep the noise down, enough is enough’
Well those words hold strong and hang tough
‘History’s whores are your future loves’
On the streets below I meet a man
The local kids like to call Satan
They say he lost his family in a fire from a chip pan
But he walked from the fire
Rather than ran
He looks on me and says
‘I ain’t never seen a sorrier state of man’
And those words haunt my head again and again
‘I ain’t never seen a sorrier state of man’
I was eating a burger bigger than a lion’s share
When an angel across ascends from her chair
With bolt blue eyes and long golden hair
She says ‘It’s your own flesh that you eat in there’
I say ‘Well, I taste good and you shouldn’t care’
But as I swallow down the meat, it’s these words that I digest
‘It’s your own flesh’
‘Own flesh’
‘So I find the nearest bar to saturate my thirst
And I drink till I feel I am liable to burst
And the bartending demon says ‘Man, you look the worst-
By the impractical morality of being,
You are both blessed and cursed’
I replied ‘You are a philosopher second and a barkeep first
And my bottles empty and another one I’d like to nurse’
But in the words of the wise he was well versed
And while I could not remember just what he had said
It was something about being blessed and cursed
Something about being both blessed and cursed.
