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marsy mars - tuscan wrath كلمات الأغنية

verse 1
the tribunal of the pariah’s office of inquisition
has me figuring out which of my future victims should be auditioned
but that it has me is the key, tied me to
an orthodoxy which i don’t even believe in
preparation for life after an earth i don’t want to be leaving
break bread and wine, i had to build a church i could receive in
pregnant with meaning, giving me back troubles
and i’ve gone up a full cup size and runneth over
another funeral booked; this poor family are my best customers
though seems to me a payment’s all they’d vie be redeemed
i guess they call on me to bury a second as i did their first
because their riches are riches of pity; because they know that
redemption went way of kodak or the mines
and that i’m just another guy who despairs of his job
which is why i’m here, seeking to give that feeling relief
through brack and pitchers of this tuscan mixture; yes, no
a holy man need not be averse to wine, women and gambling
i’m handling those that but for their masquerades be naked
hang your hope on me and i will be hanged with it
with my bible unrated, couldn’t_recognise_jesus before me faded
got smashed to make fantastic the manifestations
of my fears and passions, lashings and th_rns for crowning included
i vomit to feel close to god
and see reflections of my enemies form in the puddle resulting
verse 2
stop it, stop it with the shouting, you’re hurting her!
“it’s not us, we’re just word surfing, it’s your brother’s
willingness to desert us all again for good that threatens the hurt.”
“hurt, that’s right, hurt’s all that i’m worth, the sole imperishable
commodity not even you nor dad could bottle and stock;
in this house mahoganied with envy, burnished with weltschmerz”
“excuse me,” interjected dad on the stairs “but weltschmerz
was what it was foundered upon; anyway, keep your contempt to a song
son, it’s our only means of relating to each other in this house. you’re rich in it
and generous with it, so stay; family’s all the family you’ve got.”
“what’s the point,” cried ma, “of all this knowing and thinking
and speaking, if this is all it has to give us?”
“to know and think’s to change, to mutate; [and,] given proper
cause, to beautate, ma, but you’d never dare dream
of such a transformation, not even were it
given pride of place in the sanitary pages of the march of time”
“what kind of an example are you setting for your brother
master marple? how do you live with yourself?”
“i can only hope he will live with myself, so i needn’t
this house has been made a dramaphonie of
what poet could contain us?”
“but, why? you seemed so happy these last few days”
“yes, happy, it’s true – happy at the aggravation
of my resolve; toodle_oo”
verse 3
and god said ‘ye honour, emulate
or do battle with the remains of your ancients
for you in all times to come will be
ancients too; and it is up to you
what that will mean’
stood by the grave, plumbing my body for pain
but i’m as numb as only a child could be
stood in codeine_ated rain
trying to whip tears into a chain gang but only rage emerges
couldn’t understand if, and if then how, i was hurting
what i now feel was then but a dull enormity
i could not conceive; i didn’t know what it would mean;
that his was a death in vain; that his was a death not in vain
that his legacy was a buffalo running plain in proven vastness
i had what seemed a childly steeliness that others might’ve thought
an artful inheritance of daddy’s tact, though perceptions
of this i did not know either; i only knew the facts
that my brother was dead, after trying to steer his favourite horse
to leap across a canyon
i didn’t know neither ma nor da could bear, nor was prepared
to be the one to identify his form four days in recovery
i didn’t know who ultimately had, i suspect it was dad
i didn’t know his friends that gathered by and, having been erstwhile
so skilfully compartmentalised, met for the first time to hypothesise
i didn’t know that it was a suicide, i didn’t know that it being suicide
was an impossibility, impossible he’d risk the harm to his
beloved steed, that his love for that horse was the only thing
tethering him to his humanity
i only knew the facts

- marsy mars

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