when i was born it took three nurses to get the doctor to stop hitting me
it wasn’t until they sprinkled holy water on me that i started to cry
a bellowing roar that shook the entire hospital
my mother’s soul died on the delivery table
they called it at thirteen hundred hours and thirteen minutes
and each nurse got a streak of pure white through her hair
the statue of the virgin mother stepped off the pulpit and began turning tricks in the alleyway
bloody tears, a trail down the hall behind her
and through it all i still tried to find the good inside
i was looking in the wrong place
so i opened up a shop and sold my thoughts
a penny a piece
like the old penny dreadfuls they sold to scare the children
but tailored to frighten away any that looked behind the curtain
always found more solace in the bottom of a bottle than the end of a verse
in the corpse swaying in the hanging tree than the brush strokes of a master
as i stare into the mirror it shatters until i all i can do is breathe in the dust
fill my lungs with the specks and spew the red mist of a dying dream onto the wall
the number thirteen written in black on my leg
burnt into my soul by the fiery brand of god herself
i leave misery and broken hearts as i stomp through the city heedless of buildings as they topple around me
uncaring, unaware that other’s have made their lives here
the atrophied wings on my back lend a bounce to my step
the the writhing mess on the bottom of my shoes nothing but bubblegum
the entrails sticking with every step making a wet sucking sound like a chest wound
when i die it will take a hordes of demons to wrestle my soul through those blackened gates
and i plan on taking over once i arrive
hell doesn’t want me and heaven can’t abide me, love avoids me and trouble is my wake up call
i’m not the second coming, but that is just me warming you up for a trip to paradise by well of down below
thirteen times i call you
thirteen times you’ll come
thirteen angels have already fallen
there’ll be plenty more before i’m done