Payment Due

White-face vaudevillian clown
Snow White garbed in gothic gown
Go wish upon
Your bright and mourning star
With a flick of the regal royal wrist
You are summarily dismissed
To the meaninglessness
You should alredy know you are

Your knees are bruised, and yet you crawl
Along the hallowed holy halls
Where you have heard the siren call
To purchase the redemption that she sells
Statues crumble where they fall
Marble pillars, porcelain dolls
The pale angel, the great, the small
In the Temple where your Higher Powers dwell

Dead long enough to lose its blue
White as a corpse, the soul unmoved
Emotes so dull out of her skull
Feasts upon extorted kiss
Blood drips from tips of fangs, imbue
The heavenly mouth of an angel you knew
Accounts received the tithes of thieves
Payment due for sacrificial bliss

Your knees are bleeding, yet you crawl
Along the hallowed holy halls
Where you have heard the siren call
To purchase the redemption that she sells
Statues crumble where they fall
Marble pillars, porcelain dolls
The pale angel, the great, the small
In the Temple where your Higher Powers dwell

Mannequin armies' robotic feet
March to funerals three-quarter beat
Sing her praises in the street
In tribute pay, no questions asked
She's pedigreed, immune from germs
Takes you to task, dicates all terms
Pay no attention to the worms
Gothic angel in the Snow White mask

Your knees are calloused, yet you crawl
Along the hallowed holy halls
Where you have heard the siren call
To purchase the redemption that she sells
Statues crumble where they fall
Marble pillars, porcelain dolls
The pale angel, the great, the small
In the Temple where your Higher Powers dwell

Fleeting moments soon are gone
The sacred heart she snacks upon
Has sought salvation from the one
Who can't be saved
Shining visions have drawn her blind
Candles burning down the shrine
Escape the mystery of light
Find redemption long before the grave

Your healing knees no longer crawl
Along the hallowed holy halls
Where you have heard the siren call
To purchase the redemption that she sells
Statues crumble where they fall
Marble pillars, porcelain dolls
The pale angel, the great, the small
In the Temple where your Higher Powers dwell

 © John Kennan January 2015