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Matthew Herbert
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Tonbridge
It started with the moon
That turned an inexpensive room
Into Saint Peter's
There's a parabolic story
But it's boring and it ends
How you'd expect
Forever dressing down
I'm like a stranger hanging round
Outside the Kingdom Hall
I'd have carried your wedding shawl
You could have said
I was a school friend
And you drag your holy horse-cart
In the sky. When I wake up
They say it's just the sun
But I know that face
Excavating down
You'd find the drowning
And the drowned
And then there's us babe
You could walk to our memorial
But its pouring
And it ends how you'd expect
I dig your dresses out and hang them
Roundabout the house
And turn the lights down low
Now you're everywhere I go
Looking faintly disappointed
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And you drag your holy horse-cart
In the sky. When I wake up
They say it's just the sun
But I know that face
And the devil's tricks
Just seem to sit so light on you.
They'd never get the marionette
This tight on you
In the parliamentary houses
there'll be talk of what this is
With an expert witnesses
And evidence against us
But I'll take my pound of substance
From those insubstantial men
Whatever their arguments
I'll prove your innocence
Drag your holy horse-cart in the sky
When I wake up - oh yeah!
Testify allegiance
with more puncture wounds than Jesus
Oh yeah!
Every statue's weeping, honey
and it makes my sight go funny
Cuz I'm over sympathetic
And I can't control myself
Leave that painful memory
in the garden of gethsemane! Oh yeah!
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