Thick as Thieves

From the album Ophelia

Remember how it all began, the apple and the fall of man? The price we paid, so the people say. Down a path of shame it led us; dared to bite the hand that fed us. The fairy tale, the moral end, the wheel of fortune never turns again.

The worst of it has come and gone in the chaos of millennium, in the falling out of the doomsday crowd. Their last retreat is moving slow; they burn their bridges as they go. The heretic will try to teach the harlot’s child to smile.

Wracked again by indecision, should we make that small incision and testify to the bleeding heart inside? We cut, we scratched, we rent, we slashed and when he opened up at last—found a cul-de-sac, deep and black, of smoke and ash.

The wicked king of parody is kissing all his enemies on the seventh day of the seventh week. The tyrant’s voice is softer now but just for one forgiving hour before the rise of his iron fist again.

I’ve come tonight; I’ve come to know the way we are, see the way we’ll go. I’ve come to measure this, the width of the wide abyss. I come to you in restless sleep where all your dreams turn bittersweet with voodoo doll philosophies and day-glo holy trinities. The crooked raft that leaves the shore ferries drunken souls aboard. Pilgrims march to Compestela, visions of their saint in yellow. All follow, deep in trance, all lost in a catatonic dance. Know no future, damn the past: blind, warm, ecstatic, safe at last.

Natalie Merchant / Indian Love Bride ©1998