Far more seemly were it for thee to have thy study full of books, than thy purse full of money.
John Lyly
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The Next Day
Look into my eyes, he tells her
I'm gonna say goodbye, he says, yeah
?
All the day she thinks of is love, yeah
They whip him through the streets and alleys there
The gormless and the baying crowd right there
I can't get enough of that doomsday song
You can't get enough of it all,
Listen!
Listen to the whores, he tells her
He fashions paper sculptures of them
He drags them to the river's bank in the car
Their soggy paper bodies wash ashore in the dark
And the priest stiff in hate now demanding fun begin
? for the pleasure of that priest
Here I am
Not quite dying
My body left to rot in a hollow tree
Its branches throwing shadows
On the gallows for me
And the next day
And the next
And another day
Ignoring the pain of their particular diseases
They chase him through the alleys, chase him down the steps
They haul him through the mud and they chant for his death
And drag him to the feed of the purple-headed ?
First they give you everything that you want
Then they take back everything that you have
They live upon their feet and they die upon their knees
They can work with Satan while they dress like the saints
They know God exists for the devil told them so
They scream my name aloud down into the well below
Here I am
Not quite dying
My body left to rot in a hollow tree
Its branches throwing shadows
On the gallows for me
And the next day
And the next
And another day
Here I am
Not quite dying
My body left to rot in a hollow tree
Its branches throwing shadows
On the gallows for me
And the next day
And the next
And another day
Here I am
Not quite dying
My body left to rot in a hollow tree
Its branches throwing shadows
On the gallows for me
And the next day
And the next
And another day
Listen!