outside the door the dancer
whirls
chiming bells and shining
curls
flying footsteps in the snow
rhyme the rhythm of ruin
beside the wall the beggars
call
"Man have mercy on us all"
the night-bound choir inside
chants on --
a hymn to brick and pistols
you can stumble, you can fall
or you can make the nations
crawl
but when death comes in to
call
he don't care about it.
oh, Satan take thy cup away
for i'll not drink your wine
today
i'll reach for the chalice
of light
that stands on Jesus' table.
(23/2/75)
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |