The bodies on the naked on the low damp ground. In the violet hour to the violent sound. And the darkness the blinding the eyes that shine. And the voices singing line on line.
From one jesus to another napalm can be a treat. Religion is only cold comfort 'cos judas iscariot was a cheat. Bullet holes in my mirror and a minefield across my floor.
A sheer moon. Bless her silken heart. Waiting for the stars to come out and shine. Head in the clouds. And she kisses the sky. Trick or treat on the tip of her tongue.