Rowland S. Howard Pop Crimes
Are you Stalin's secret daughter
Did you murder history
Your twin pals Genocide and Slaughter
Were born on Calvary
When all the good
Got good and Gone
And all the bad broke free
A sock puppet government
Left to its own device
The hand that used to hold my hand
Has grown bored of its delights
I guess that I Won't see you tomorrow
On this planet of Perpetual Sorrows
This was pop crime
The Catholic Church cannot verify
That there's a single soul in Hell
It's just a wasteland of adversity
Devoid off all but the peal Wedding Bells
From this vast expanse of nothing
Nothing good can come of this
But the open hole of the zero
And an Open-Heart-Surgery Kiss
Did you go down with the Gorgans
Is that why o uturned to stone?
Or was that state reserved for me
for me and me alone
Does the hissing of their coiffured snakes
Desiccate your soul?
(This was a Pop Crime)
This was a Pop Crime
This was a Pop Crime
