Funeral For A Soul Mate

Sorry to have shot you but I was aiming at my father
Had the bullet not done the job
One of my two black panthers would’ve surely mauled you to death
So consider the fact your ultimate end was more pleasant than being eaten alive

I know your worship needed a God but halos give me headaches
My life was simply too archaic to be religious that way
You see, when I was a child, we lived near a cemetery
and the winds of death still embrace me like a mischievous prince
Clear balloons in my little hand found at sacred temples
Where I apparently hungered for any signs of the messiah
and had an indelible thirst for Jesus juice,
but the world occurred, not much else, not much else

This is surely no excuse for learning to pull the trigger at the age of three
but you needed to die as my heart was provoked
My Taurean traits were awakened
as my soul recoiled to the ear-blood stains on my pillow

The moment I sensed any possibility of new love
I descended to my molester’s grave
Stared into his dead eyes to be awakened from this dream
and found this gun in his casket
Now there’s nothing left but red

I never wanted to be Christlike
Offering my tears to the only son God ever claimed
to crystallize into powder and snort from a vial-
This may seem sacrilegious to you but so was the offer to settle down
Living with catastrophe doesn’t do much for self-esteem
and I was not ready for sacrifice
So "ashes to ashes and dust to dust" and whatever else they say