I did try to found a heresy of my own
And when I had put the last touches to it
I discovered that it was orthodoxy
[G.K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy]

My vision of this world
Held so dearly in my mind
Shattered like this young man's skull
Along the banks of the Rhine

May I curse god and die?
For death would be a relief
But would it vindicate or shame me
In my rampant unbelief?
May I curse god and survive
Or would lightning strike me to the ground?
I would gladly feel its burn on my face
If then I could see my Jehovah come down

Faire le descente

No witch has ever died
No demon ever slept too deep
All can be brought back
To herd unfortunate sheep
No witch has ever died
No nightmare ever truly sleeps
There is no such thing as death
Except for the mortal sheep

The mud is in my wounds
My blood is in the ground
From dust I was born
Oh how poetically we are bound

May I curse god and die?
For death would be a relief
But would it vindicate or shame me
In my rampant unbelief?
May I curse god and survive
Or would lightning strike me to the ground?
I would gladly feel its burn on my face
If then I could see my Jehovah come down