(via ruineshumaines)
It’s a bit of a journey to describe what I’m about
Maybe; a vagabond rogue, spitting English at French whores
“C’est la vie, c’est la vie!” Yeah, no doubt
I never questioned their open-easy leg-doors
Maybe a punk, high off his latest acid trip
Could misapprehend the difference between love and sex
Better than I ever could but
Not like it matters because those people to me; well they’re just
Objects sown into one big fucking quilt
With a million and-a-half little patches
All profiles too, all smiling, with hints of pride or guilt
All latched on to each other
One big community
And that’s another thing too I always believed in community
I believed that a nigger and a racist could live in unity
I believed that a poor child always had opportunity
I went to church and praised the Good Lord’s name
I confessed my sins to Man who helped wash away ever single sign of shame
Every last bit, shit, he was good at it, too
He told me “Son, The Good Lord loves you and always will”
And I never doubted that- I never questioned it because I wanted someone to love me so badly
But then I realized how could GOD love ME? A vagabond rogue, spitting English at French whores
And I just thought
About everything I always was taught ought to be but
Community, unity, a nigger and racist forgiving one another
A child growing up in hate but learning to love
Evil being- Evil rotting away because there’s nothing for it to take hold of
And I felt my eyes being bathed in oil
I felt my lungs breathing smoke for ten years in two days
And all at once it recoiled- all at once it hit me in the fucking face
That no one ever loved me and I wished that God did but God isn’t my mother and if she won’t hold me
No one will
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