I. Alien Grace
II. The Best of All Possible Worlds
III. The Reprimand
lyrics
I. Alien Grace
We read the skies,
Each star a poem.
Galaxies of rhyme
Calling you home.
Of the Beginning;
Of the Eternal;
Of the Extended;
Of the Pure Concept;
All is forgiven;
All is forgiven;
Always forgiving;
Each one forgiven;
All is forgiven,
Pristine ‘neath the canopy of evening’s tender light.
It’s gotta be
Somebody.
But it wasn’t me.
It couldn’t be.
It’s a hit and run
With a rubber gun.
Are we sure, is it necessary,
That it was someone?
We feed on light,
Your flame’s a meal.
Each hand’s touch a bite
That you won’t feel.
All is forgiven.
II. The Best of All Possible Worlds
Man’s defang’d –
but scurvied gums can still draw blood.
The future has been arraigned,
not with a bang but with a thud.
Scalpel sharp –
babes slice thumbs on tight harpstrings.
Sweat stings – mingles with blood’s marks
on the blank charts for an abandoned life’s coda.
(Far from false charity,
I have received the gift
of plucked out eyes.)
Hand on heart –
its muffled beacon beckons breath.
Lest death do us rend apart,
swear that you’ll leave it in my chest.
Kingdom come –
the curved path of varicose veins
leads astray till they pull plumb
from the full force of love, flushing claret – God’s love.
(Near to calamity,
I have refused to hear
your rueful cries.)
The best of all possible worlds:
Eating custard powder in a fallout shelter.
The best of all possible worlds:
Smoking butts found afloat in the rainbow’d gutter.
Clench your fist –
the migraine’s grip of my grim shame.
Crystal moonlight hits, my cysts
confess their breadth ‘pon my gaunt frame.
Sick with age –
or, shorn by the scythe while ripe and gay;
hearty, hale, and full of rage
‘gainst the first flush of lust for younger days.
(The bread of God is free.
He feeds the faithless who
would rather starve.)
Mend his wounds –
“Ma’am, I’m afraid your man’s been maimed.
Our blessed knives could carve a womb;
fold him in the hole, he’ll bleed out – born again.”
Man’s defamed –
he’s harried by his mother’s eyes.
She spies the pleasure that he names
Adam, who didn’t pray, who didn’t have to pray – nor I !
(The brand that’s seared on me
spells out my deference
in florid scars.)
The best of all possible worlds:
Reading lonely letters torn from a quaint porno.
The best of all possible worlds:
Seeing children lied to: “no, you’re not just born to die.”
III. The Reprimand
Were it as simple as care – if care had no character –
then I might find it fair to reprimand my reprimand.
But we’re fragile for fear – “afraid” is a barrier
that only pain can clear.
Only I can get you clear.
Would I lie?
Would I lie, my dear?
credits
from Reprimand,
released September 1, 2023
music by yep
lyrics by Craig and Madison
engineered and mixed by Eirinn McHattie
mastered by Adam Veenendaal
This is a great, multi-dimensional rock album. It's like if The Cranberries made more alternative music instead of pop-rock, because the singer definitely sounds like Delores. Thomas Gierach
