Fucked up Paradise (OR: Sermon of a desperate angel)
Part I
I bent my heart to golden rules
I trained my body -heart to stoole-,
I left desires without sway.
Now here i am, in heaven high,
And try to smash my head -but my!-
In heaven, there's no way to die!
I am relieved from flesh and bone,
And got a cloud, all of my own.
And what I think? - Don't ask me twice:
This is a fucked up Paradise!
And down on earth the humans race,
A glorious, abbyssmal trace
That —vertically, in this case—
leads to the boundary of growth.
But doing praise from 9 to 5
Should angels, in their sparetime, strive
The earth in search of souls to save?
Some rookie, sure, they start out brave,
But heaven's work was rationalized,
In parts outsourced to antichrist:
It hardly differs human life.
Part III
If innovation He rejected
Would He still understand your prayer?
The way you have your world, we have it there!
By things you do, permit to be,
be sure that hell and earth and heavens are effected.
In case you're looking for advise:
Make this, your world, a paradise!
You've got it all that it will need,
So go along and sow the seed!
And don't forget:
Besides th'endurance of the saint
There's always been a wealth of holy rage!