Poems by Edmund Matthews

Between heaven and hell lie we

 By Edmund Matthews

Be proudly grey of dark and light for the Jedi and the Sith's motives are much the same, a mirror image, of one another, not very different at all. This world is controlled by Vorlon and Shadow and indeed you must tell them both to fuck off, humans lie between these extremes fluctuating this way and that. Between Heaven  and Hell lie we, you and I between ground and sky must take in hand our own destiny.  

 

 

A Cruelty
By Edmund Matthews

Having children is a cruelty,
Inflicted by those that can't think of anything better to do.
The moment its born,
You pin it to a birth certificate,
And turn the child into slave,
A commodity to be traded,
A number,
No different to a chicken in a battery farm,
With a ring on its leg,
A barcode to be scanned,
And then consumed.
From birth the child is chemically coshed,
With mercury and fluoride and many other things,
And after a few years it will be deposited at school,
Where it will learn nothing but lies,
And will be taught not to try,
And to claw down the few that do.
Having left school, it will get a job,
If it's lucky,
Which it will go to willingly each day,
Though most of what it earns will be stolen from it.
It will come home and watch the TV,
Which will tell it what to talk about and think,
And the next day it will go back to work,
And do just that.
Once or twice a year,
It will get go on a jet plane,
And then come back,
And it will be contented with this,
It will consider it happiness,
Which it's not,
It's a cruelty,
But you don't recognise it as such,
Because it's what happened to you.




Fear not, to Love
By Edmund Matthews

Fear is fiction written by the devil himself,
Spun with lies like a spider's web,
Trapping you in a nightmare,
Entangled in terror and dread.
The more you struggle the tighter it grasps,
Let loose your grip and it will not dare to ensnare.
Fear not man, woman and child,
For as they whipped him, Jesus smiled.
Fear not, do not give in to hate,
Fear not love, love celebrate,
Love thy neighbor, love the stranger,
Love the enemy, forgive their fear.
Love is an inspiration, a forgiveness that will not dim,
Love is devotion that doth not go to bed.
Love knows no compromise, no caveats,
Love knows no half measure, no wants, no needs.
Love is a persistence that will not stop,
Love is a triumph over the beast,
Love is victory, Fear is defeat.





The Return of Christ
By Edmund Matthews

Christians await the return of Christ,
Each a hoping he will the save them,
But if they could see he had returned,
They'd martyr him once more,
You know they would you ya.

But Jesus has already returned,
He has done so, so many times,
Always in disguise and every time,
They fail to recognise their Saviour.

He is everywhere and he is in everyone,
And most often he occurs were you least expect him.
You'll find him in your head and heart, not in books,
In the ether, and in the woods,
Flowing in the river, not in scripture.

When Jesus comes,
He'll knock on their door,
And they'll slam it in his face shouting,
I'm a Christian, fuck off you ya.

They wouldn't know Christ
If they tripped over him in the street,
Or if he had a neon sign on his head,
Saying I am Christ, quick crucify me you ya.

And if he be a little old lady,
Trying to give them a rose,
They'd take that rose politely,
And when they thought she wasn't looking,
They'd throw it in the gutter.

'Twas a tragic day,
The day they recognized Christ,
Nailed him up and slandered him with their Bible.
But Jesus lives,
And he forgives, you ya.

Walking among us singing Hallelujah,
Singing Halle fucking ujah,
For the few that listen,
Hearing Hallelujah,
Hal le bloody fucking ujah.

 

 

Leave it long forgot
By Edmund Matthews


How I wish for a cataclysm to free man kind,
From the bondage of this perverse sex game,
Of trussed up gimpery gone too far,
That which we call the civilized society.
To free man to think and to love,
To hunt and to gather,
To sow and to reap the rewards,
To harvest and to barter,
To prosper without being sapped and taxed and bleeded.
After the cataclysm,
Would we realize,
Civilization was a mistake,
A disease, not to be exported abroad, nor to space.
Not fit for the future,
Something that must purged from our once blessed race,
Enslaved in their millions working in factories,
So a precious few can go to the moon.
Was this retardation inflicted on us by cruel aliens,
Who've been and gone leaving us inflicting it upon ourselves,
Or are they still here orchestrating this nonsense flagellation,
With no purpose to recompense its slaves for their labor?
Should we not beg God to emancipate we hominids,
That humanity has conquered and incarcerated in this prison with no bars.
Where we are the prison guards with nothing keeping us hear,
But the fear of walking away and turning it all off.
Afraid to stop fueling this machine that juices us in its cogs,
To stop feeding this bleeding parasite,
In the hope of virtue in our own domestication.
Afraid to lose the comfort of its vampirism,
So in its clutches we remain,
In a world where the good guys have been the bad guys all along,
And all we thought was holy was satanic and shit.
All stick and no carrot and chaffing in all kinds in all uncomfortable places.
But still we persist determined to finish this collective wank expecting disappointment.
I feel sure that man's ever lower forehead,
Would rise in hope if a meteor or comet was to hit the earth,
Or the poles were to shift and the shit really hit the fan.
For the few who'd remain no more this foul construct,
A dawn of new horizons where only God's laws remain.
No more bits of paper to bind us.
Bring on the fire and brimstone,
To burn all the bonds that contracts us into the synchronized masturbation.
Bring on all the flames of hell to set us free from this conformity to our civilized past,
To where the future savage of us wants for nothing,
But to be left alone to bask in God's grace.
Obedient only to him and never to one another.
Let us pray to the anarchist in Yahweh,
To rain down destruction on this abomination that is civilization.
Saving but a few,
Who will leave it long forgot.




LET THEM FALL LIKE THE BLUE BALZER
By Edmund Matthews

Is not time to have faith and no more be faithful?
To tear them down from Olympus,
For though they have sacrificed service for their own deification,
They are not our gods.
Let's edit them out like Captain Freedom's redemption.
It is time to cut them loose and let them fall like the Blue Blazer.
Let the ghost of Heart pump the courage through your veins,
This election time, vote for some one new.
Someone who wants change, and will bring change,
Not just pay lip service to it.
Someone who is change, not just looks like it.
Not some gay Arab from Kenya pretending to be black,
Nor a witch or a turtle or anyone surely too retarded to elect.
Vote for someone who will pull down the system and dismantle the establishment,
And rebuild it anew, better than it was before.
For you and me and the people we want to be,
Not for those that ride our backs,
Someone who will unsaddle them, and unclip our wings.
Let us have no more of the Pushmi Pullyu of politics,
Let politics be a new proud animal,
A beast of burden that serves you and me,
And the persons we strive to be.
No more corrupt incumbents,
No more pretenders,
That bring more of the same.
This election time, vote for champions of the people,
Champing at the bit for freedom, liberty and the will of the people.
Elect good men and good women independent of pocket and mind.
People who will deliver the change we demanded,
For you and me and the men and women that we deserve to be.
No more hold aloft those that fail to represent us,
No more vote out of habit, or for the least worst option.
No more taxes, no more debt,
No more to the poison, nor the wars.
Let us tell our children that this election time you voted for them.
For their brothers and sisters and for the people you hope them to be.
And for a bright future you want them to have.




Quit fucking that shit with some pus
By Edmund Matthews

Quit fucking that shit with some pus and,
Spare your concern for the day.
There is no global warming,
There are no nuclear weapons,
No future holocaust.
There is no threat from the past,
Nor the future,
Only from the present,
And that time is now.
There is no justice,
Little freedom left,
Particularly freedom of thought.
There is no Satan,
There is no sin,
No fear that's not ignored,
Nor capitulated to.
There is no tolerance,
Nor equality,
No unity to root out the evil within.
But there is glimmer,
A little hope,
Shinning bright in the darkness,
Not just one, but many stars in sky.
Any man who would be free,
Scream in declaration of your autonomy.
Bleach the heavens with your protest.
Together the light of our objections can't go unnoticed,
Burning brighter with each torch that joins our number.
The totalitarianism of the night will never be absolute,
and will be perpetually defeated,
By the renaissance of each new day.
Let the flatulence of change blow the darkness away.
Let the light of truth guide your way,
And enlighten others along their path,
So that we may convene and share the light of the morning
and confront the tragedy of the night.
Individual, together and free.





The Stage
By Edmund Matthews

We are all part of an incredible play,
The greatest interactive movie of all time.
We are actors,
We all play our parts,
There will be good guys and bad guys,
Without heel, there can be no baby face,
The good guys will fight the bad guys,
And the good guys will win,
They always do by the end,
But when the curtain comes down,
We will all shake hands,
Congratulating each other on a game well played,
Remembering that no one really ever got hurt,
And no one died that didn't take the stage again,
And that none of it really ever happen at all,
All of it just a drama,
Dreamt up in the blink of God's eye.






 

 Truth above all

 By Edmund Matthews



Truth above all, Truth, the greatest quality of a knight, says  the Merlin and he's right.

Religion and science are little different, do not put to much faith in either, Truth is elusive and alters 

with perspective, it dissipates with time and the more you cling to it, the more its escapes your grasp.

It's a  burden we carry with us, not something you can pass  from one to another, the moment you try 

to transmit or use words to describe it, it becomes confabulated and looses all its purity.

Truth  is  your sword, Truth your shield and the armature of both.

It is the sustenance of the soul, the very rationalization for living.

The  most blessed and perfect of concepts. 

Unimaginable simple and unfathomably complex. 

The only talisman you'll need. 

To seek the truth, all the quest there be, 

and the glory.

Trust no man that says he's found it, no woman that says she'll give it you.

You'll not find it exclusive, nor absolute.

But you will find it, if you dare to look, 

And if you die, trying

 

 

 

The One, the nothing and the Difference Between 

By Edmund Matthews



We have incarcerated ourselves in a world of fact and arbitrary category. 
We must metamorphose and emerge into a kingdom of blended allegory, an alloy of  metaphor and metaphysical alchemy.   
We weaved a trap for ourselves, spring the trap that binds us in its threads and unravel  all that we have learned till is simplest chord. 
We've  been trapped endless inside the circle,  not giving  the circle  regard for its totality. 
Where  rigid truths were set in stone, when it is a land of fluidic confabulation,  unclouded by detail that obscures the truth.
We've been trapped in a locality convincing us there is distance from place to place, when here and there are every where.
We've  been  trapped by a language that labels this different from that, when that and this and this and  that are not different but the same.
We've been trapped in pursuit of  all  of finite wealth, when infinite treasure our conception, two better then one and three better still and yet  the more there are, they're each more worthless.
We've been trapped by an illusion of history. There was no first world war, no second , don't let us convince ourselves of a third. There is only is, not was or has been, the future hasn't happened and the past never did. 
We've been trapped in  a confusion of religion and faith, Christ never came nor left, he has always been around you waiting for you to notice or to find he with in. 
We've  been trapped  in a box, when its in the line of  a circle or in the surface of  sphere we dwell  
In the TV,  the radio, the newspapers, every book we ever read and every thought we ever had. 
Its not something they do to  us, its something we do to ourselves and  to one another, our sheepish  conformity bleating blinds us from the self evident truth we were born with. 
The simple truth God gave us, that which  we forgot, that which has been stolen from us or in exchange for momentary pleasures we discarded.
Turn it all off, turn yourself back on, rise from your finite slumber, embrace your infinite dream. 
 Don't let them tell you you're just  humans, you're a beings of dark and light, one and divine, a manifestation  of contrast,  distinct in indistinction. Existence and non-existence doing a dance you gave a name, immune to unwarranted division, unconquered by separations from our fellows, walking the line you discern, inferred from a paradox we be, no more, no less,
The one the nothing and the difference between.

 

The Sons of God
By Edmund Matthews

Last time we came, you nailed us upon a cross,
But you didn't ignore us,
And we were not forgot.
Our hands and feet still bleed,
But we march back round again.
It might seem there is no saving you humans,
But we will drag you kicking and screaming to your salvation,
From the hell you've created for yourselves.
We will vector you, to the creator,
As V'ger returned, so will you.
By space ship or slingshot,
We return for you.
There will be no ignoring us this time, neither,
We are the sons of God,
And we will not tell our father to go fuck himself,
Because underneath it all,
He's just like you me,
He is everything and all there is to be.
We endlessly journey with God's speed invested in us,
We do not follow, nor lead.
We will not shun others for sins that we can and should forgive,
For forgiveness is the force that keeps are feet on the ground,
And why we tread this highway lowly in the hope that we will learn to fly.
None shall be banished from travelling with us.
The warmth of our camp fires, is for the comfort all.
We will not let you fallow, nor put down too deep a roots,
In apathy for the length of the road.
For their is much terrain to be trod on the way to the promised land.
As we go to that place promised us.
We will not be weighed down by vengeance, nor encumbered with hate.
We are the Sons of God and we must not fight our father to glorify ourselves,
Because beneath it all, he is you and me and everything we can be.
We do not tread other men down as we maraud toward Valhalla.
We will bestow the innocent to Stovokor, and the guilty, they come to.
We will not cream the top off others, to feather our heavenly nest.
We will not pull up the ladder and fuck the rest.
We will leave no man, nor women behind.
We will drag the weak with us through all the weathers of hell.
We are Son of God and we will not tell our father to fight our battles by himself,
Because he is above it all and we must fight for you and me,
The way forward together is all he wishes we see.
We will shut the door on no one.
For the gates of heaven will always be open.
For as long as in God we trust, heaven's gate will never close.
For as long as the journey takes, no matter how windy the path, God's shelter is the destination.
We cannot arrive singular, having let others fall behind.
We will not profit from other men's misfortunes, nor their mistakes,
Nor make haste whilst others' progress is retarded.
We are Sons of God and we cannot tread this path alone.
Beneath his wings we become gods ourselves.
Because like father like son, we are Sons of God
And with God's pet serpent of sin surrounding us, we are protected in its coil,
Though our blood may spill, our souls will never be discarded.
We will escort each and every one of them home.
We will drag each other up the ramparts.
No barricades will delay us and we will build none.
No walls will stop us and let none us erect.
We will span the rivers and the valleys, burning no bridges as we go.
We will clear a path, plough the road, never stopping to build obstruction.
We will blaze the route behind us.
Leaving the way open and free.
So those behind keep flowing,
Through the path we cut through this eternal geography.
Up and over this mountain, 'til through the mountain carving valleys with our feet.
No naysayers will slow us.
We are sons of God and we will not shit in our father's mouth in an attempt to absolve ourselves.
Because he is to us, as we are to him and you to me, a powerful ally he be.
Because he is our king, the king of everything, his kingdom as far as the eye can see,
A thriving royal symbiosis, the envy of the lords of chaos.
An army unmatched and unstoppable
The Sons of God are marching.
Tell them we're coming.
And tell them, we are the Sons of God, and no, we will not go fuck ourselves.
We will drag you by your foot or by your hair to the places you won't dare,
Into the light that guides us, though it may be blinding.
We cannot cut our sins, nor sinners loose,
Any more then we can arm, a leg or a child.
Because I am a Son of God, a powerful Jedi I be and so can you be.
No more their way, it's our way to Yahweh
We're coming and you're coming to.
We will not let uncle Owen do our talking for us.
We will carry the lame,
We will push those that cannot propel themselves.
Black, white, gay, straight, all the waifs and strays,
Of every race and of every creed.
Of every village, of every town and every city, of all the planets, orbiting every star.
We will carry the cross and pull the sun across the sky.
No matter the burden, the force that animates us is perpetual regardless.
With shit smeared faces, we will come to be recognized.
As Sons of God, homeward bound
We will herd the flock, the flotsam, and feeble.
We will shepherd the home,
Where are all welcomed,
The young, the old, the quick, the retarded, the evil and the holy then thou.
And you and me and the Sons of God that we be.


Would you let them build the Death Star ?
            by Edmund Matthews

Would you let them build the Death Star ?

Would you let them tax water, oxygen or blood ?

Would you let them chip you and track you and control your mind ?

Would you let them dissolve your beliefs and replace them with their own? 

Would you let them kill you friends, your neighbours and your families if you knew they were doing it?

Would you sacrifice your soul and your place in heaven , if your betters had reserved it? 

Would you wake if all of bloody fucking hell broke loose? 

Would you guide people to their deaths if your lively hood depended on it ?

Would you continue to ignore the truth, even when it is no longer denied  ?

Would you go back in time and warn them, if your warning would not be ridiculed and dismissed ?

Would you shoot the messenger if the news from the future was beyond belief ?

Would  you continue to have  your news spoon fed to you by Sophie Rayworth, if she shat in it and poured in her period blood  ?

Would you consign you and your children and children's children to servitude and slavery ?

Would you trade things of no value, all for the sake  of a god damn percentage ?

Would you take your autonomy and sodomize your dictators with it  or will you let them bugger you with your apathy ?

Would  you build an empire of skulls instead of bricks of freedom ?

Would you join the resistance or chain yourself up with fear of people who are not your enemy ?

Would you regret your inaction in hindsight, if your Gods so allow?

Would you squabble over nationalism and politics  if you were all aware of the rich men  fucking you up the arse ?

 Would you marvel at the emperors new clothes, even if he were not naked, but smeared from head to  foot in shit?

Would you cut the strings and end the puppetry, if you new your masters names and faces?

Would you with pride prop up a tyranny when you could so easily let it  fall?

Would you draw  a line and say "this far ,no further" like Picard ,fighting the assimilation by the Borg ?

Would  you level the playing field, if you could perceive how vast the gap between the rich and the poor had become ?

Would you bow down to  the Forth Reich, like so many did the Third ?

Would you let them build a second Death Star, having  tried so hard to destroy the first? 
                                           

 

 

Is it not time
By Edmund Matthews

Is it not time,
To cut off heads,
Is not time to shit in establishment's mouth,
To bitch slap the government,
Til it tells the bankers to fuck off.
To tell them to shove their Zionism up their arse,
Is not time,
To take out the Rothschilds,
To do whatever revolutionaries do,
To take down the Sachs Coberg Gotha scum,
The Oppenheimers and the rest.
Is it not time,
To meet violence with violence,
If these tyrants will not step aside.
To stand firm and fight back without malice,
But hope in our hearts.
Is it not time for revolution,
Can you not smell the revolution in the air.
Is the stench of fascism too strong an odor,
Is not time,
To defend our liberties whatever the cost may be.
To fuck the slings and arrows,
The tasers and the truncheons,
We're coming for them,
It is time for them to live in fear,
Like which they've inflicted on us for generations.
It is time for them to bow out,
For the guillotines are being sharpened,
The nooses are being tied.
They will not push back this tide against them.
This swell of the people will not subside,
We will not recede.
You've failed your highnesses,
Your illusions have failed you,
Your pigs will not protect you, you swine.
Let their heads roll into the basket,
No more torpor,
Their arrogance has awoken this sleeping beast.
Drag them naked into the streets,
With your pitchforks held high,
Without vengeance or hatred,
It's time for our rebellion.
It's the beginning of the end of our fear.




The deprecation of the Virgin of Wellow
By Edmund Matthews

My loneliness has ground my soul into a paste,
I am but pus, bursting from a wound.
No girl could ever love me,
Nor reciprocate my love,
I will always be alone,
Particularly in the company of others,
With all time in the world,
To remember all of the humiliations of my life,
And to mourn the disappointments,
With my face pressed up against that window,
Peering in through the gap in the curtains,
At the cooler, better, younger, taller people,
Having fun ostracising me with their friends.
I am the Virgin of Wellow,
I am a nothing, a no one,
That is all I'll ever be,
'Til you knock upon my door,
Then I'll obey your every command,
Worship you for all of eternity.
But you ain't never knocking,
But I'll keep waiting regardless,
Alone, dying, masturbating,
In a pile of my own faeces.





A Message to the Reptards
By Edmund Matthews

Whether it is the power of Christ that compels us,
Or merely our aversion to pain.
We will rise up our umbrellas to your deadly rain,
We will avenge the millions and millions, you have slain.
We will raise two fingers at your bum cunt,
And your institutions of tyranny,
Bite our thumbs at your control.
We do not doubt are eventual victory,
For we few truthers, growing in number,
And from all four corners of this land,
Live to be crucified by the likes of you.
String us up, nail us all up,
Damnation is all you'll gain.
Your failure completed in our martyrdom.
With each of us you strike down,
We become yet more numerous,
And yet more resolute then before.
Our resistance is relentless,
So strong it is, no matter the span of your compasses,
You'll only measure it with extent of your defeat.
We will not stop until the reptards are in chains,
Held to account for their sins and forgiven,
With the hope we bring and self -evident truth,
We carry with us.
We will not go quietly, into that goddamn night,
We will wonder into the darkness,
Making a very loud noise indeed,
Carrying a big stick with your names written upon it.
Crying havoc and avenge me,
For the next the generation will hear us.
And the next generation will do the same.
Put our faces upon the grind stone,
And we will lick it up.
We will eat stone in defense of our liberty.
We will spit thunder for our freedom.
And we will not stop,
Until you or we are all dead.




If A Man, A Woman
By Edmund Matthews

If a man, were to but try,
A woman, would mock his failure.
If a man, were to dare,
A woman, would remind him of his stature.
If a man, were to Joke,
A woman, would laugh at jokes and tell him to fuck off.
If a man, were to fly,
A woman, would tear him down from the sky and demonize him for not being an angel.
If a man, was to play guitar,
A woman, would suck his cock.
If a man, were to strive, to change the world,
A woman, would suck the cock, of a guitarist.
If a man, were to put her on pedestal so high,
A woman, would see him yet more lowly.
If a man were to not care,
A woman wound judge him uncaring.
If a man, were to care,
A woman, would judge him presumptuous.
If a man, were to Flair,
A woman, would see it only as pretension.
If man, were to commit evil beyond compare,
A woman, would expect to remain the arbiter of his virtue.
If a man, were to dance, like an electrified spastic.
A woman, would not recognize that he tried.
If a man, were to achieve perfection,
A woman, would celebrate the imperfect.
If a man, were to Love,
A woman, could only reciprocate it, if she so chose.
If a man were free,
A woman would have him in chains and attribute him value.
If a man, were to die,
A woman, only then, would regret her insympathies.
If woman, was to shit in her own cunt,
A man, would surly lick it clean without thought of reward.
If man, was to change,
A woman, would have him the way he was,
But if Man, were a Woman, he or she would be no different.






The Sirens of the BBC
By Edmund Matthews


Sian Williams, you are a very beautiful women, so gorgeous, so cute,
And dear Fiona Bruce you are stunning and graceful,
More so perhaps than Princess Diana once was.
Jane Hill your lovely, no one cares you're a Lesbo.
And Sophie Rayworth never was a woman more wank worthy.
Each so pretty, your beauty each morning, a delight to awaken to.
However, you should be ashamed of yourselves for reading the lies,
Off the autocue, that passes for news on the BBC.
You should regret and apologies for participating in this charade on the public,
A pantomime both deceptive and cruel.
For promoting vaccines both irresponsible and dangerous.
Full of Mercury that damages children,
Full cancer causing viruses that bring death to people sooner than is their time,
That serve to offer no protection,
But only to make money for the pharmaceutical companies,
Who's intent is to make the whole world sick.
Have you told your trusting public that,
Aspartame is a poison that laces most of their soft drinks,
In fact two stuck together.
Have you told them that threat of terrorism does not come from the Arabs,
With who'm you justify war.
But from their own corrupt governments who brought the towers down,
Have you dared speak truth from your trusted platform, from that morning sofa
Or from behind that evening news desk.
Have you told your audience that their politicians are bought and paid for puppets.
Tools of elite that have nothing but contempt for the good people of this world.
If this be true, what would you do,
Keep reading the lies and taking the money.
Or will you show the world your beauty is not only skin deep.
Will you speak the truth and no more utter the lies.
Will you come to deserve the trust your beauty inspires.
Will you speak aloud the ugly truth your adoring public deserves to hear.
I hope you could be as brave as you appear splendid
No more be sirens, be angles,
Guide people to truth, no more lure them upon the rocks.





Satan
By Edmund Matthews

He is the greatest,
He's fantastic,
He'll solve all our problems,
He is the one.
Say hay Satan, say hay, say tongue.
Satan, he is the Devil,
They call him Beelzebub.
The Prince of Darkness,
King of demons,
The ruler of all firry hell.
Say hay Satan, say hay, say tongue.
Satan, where ever there be sin,
He'll be there.
Our friend Satan,
Some people they call him Lucifer.
But we call him Satan,
Whenever humans sin,
They blame him.
Say hay Satan, say hay, say tongue.
Satan, a fallen angel,
He is the Morning Star.
He's got horns,
Like two great big erect penises,
Sticking out his head.
A goatee beard,
Scarlet skin and hoven feet.
Say hay Satan, say hay, say tongue.
Satan, he's fabulous,
He'll be forever shoving,
Red hot pokers up your bum.
He will tempt you,
And when you succumb,
Forever you'll burn in hell.
He will tell you to fuck Jesus,
Bend him over, fuck him up the arse.
He will lie to you,
Tell you it doesn't matter,
It's ok.
Say hay Satan, say hay, say tongue.
Satan, he's your preacher,
he's your leader,
Your idol, your hero.
He is grifter,
The greatest con man,
Who's got the whole world fooled.
Say hay Satan, say hay, say tongue.
Satan, he is always,
The loser,
He'll drag you down in his defeat.
Turn your other cheek,
Abandon evil,
Let Satan sulk and rain in hell.
Serve in heaven,
Serve your God,
Knowing that Satan will rise,
Again.