I hear you calling on your God

cause your spirit is haunted

but when has calling on Him ever got you what you wanted?

See boy, See

you’ll only make it with me.

now, hand me that instrument boy, let me play you a tune

a note to make your welted words take on a healing hue of the blues now,

bow boy, bow.

you wanna play these strings?

well if I pull yours you can gain fame and all those things, or

I can garnish your neck with it

like an unsung chord

like the chains of your past

like the hands of your aching desire to be more, at last

 breathe boy, breathe

inhale the stench of your mediocrity

exhale your birthright as a creator,

say you need me

say aint no savior like the one beneath the soil on which you plead

say boy, say

but for this healing you must pay.

It’ll only cost you what they don’t love you for anyway 

now, ain’t it a small fee?

yeah boy, see

now you can play boy, play

sing boy, sing

they love you now, they love your shell

and the rest belongs

to me.

written by Jess Mahogany (c) 2017