by Ralph Stanley If you have friends in Gloryland Who left because of pain Thank God up there they’ll die no more They’ll suffer not again So weep not friends I’m going home Up there we’ll die no more No coffins will be made up there No graves on that bright shore The lame will walk in Gloryland The blind up there will see The deaf in gloryland will hear The dumb will talk to me So weep not friends I’m going home Up there we’ll die no more No coffins will be made up there No graves on that bright shore

Oh the root knot pulls you down through the crown shyness There’s a maggot in a ghillie suit waiting for its metamorphosis The holy father’s fingers reach up through the snow so crisp Followed by his slit wrist And the Applehearts drink liquor straight from livers clamped to christmas lights Their thrones of backbone wickers glitter in the dew drops of this lovely night The watercolor coral crunes of cannibals bring the cast iron fire delight And you are dressed in white When we sleep we are knee deep in our graves Jesus saves, Jesus saves, Jesus saves himself for once Oh we hid the language of our love in the pedalfuzz of crickets ‘Til our berry brains were boiled by the bachelors high on whippets Now we’re ignorant like infants unaware of our existence And the mangled manger’s mayhem won’t be remembered as significant In the ugly merlot glow of the mortal sacrifice The holy ghost is graving on the gluten-free flesh of Christ The resistance with their wild red eyes Found only fireflies at the end of the cave And when we sleep we are knee deep in our graves Jesus saves, Jesus saves, Jesus saves himself for once I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy, down in my heart Down in my heart, down in my heart I’ve got the joy, joy, joy, joy, down in my heart Down in my heart for once

It is the penultimate solution In the White Wagner Creek pollution It keeps its bastardized copy of the constitution tucked under its belt It’s wearing black in May so that maybe we’ll finally melt It’s in the firecracking feeling of the Sunrise streets On dirt scarred barefeet in the summer heat While the firetrucks and cop cars do their dubstep beat To the speed of Floridian Rhythm It’s a phone case kiosk at the Sawgrass Mall Singing just another brick in your wonderwall Over panicked breathing with one missed call To the tone of Floridian Rhythm It’s a dumptruck pulling a particular smell That makes your dream of Taco Bell And while we’re sudden thunder storming on the family car We’re what the rest of the U.S. says we are But we’ll choose the last trending TV talent show star With the vote of Floridian rhythm On the fools hope in Floridian Rhythm Oh Floridian Rhythm, please don’t eat my face

Where do you go when you die? In a grave, in a grave, in a grave Coupon shopping with the Lord Jesus saves, Jesus saves, Jesus saves Let the undead evangelical thousands Tear all the mics from the stage ‘Cause when I die I will know What is whole and who is alone In a grave, in a grave, in a grave

For Christ sake and inspiration Let’s write a song (a demonstration?) Well I’ll play the C-chord Job in his nice shirt will place bass And you can do something interesting I’d like to announce that we’re arresting $5 from everybody in this room Consider it a tax on underage drinking And if you’re paying with venmo Come on send the money upfront And if you’re hitting on Pixie Lily Kindly shut the fuck up It’s obvious that I am in a writing rut (When are you not?) Cause I’m writing another shitty song about the scene And we are sing Let us try to impress you Do you think we’re cool? I hope you think we’re cool Let us try to impress you At least dance a little it helps our self-esteem (We have low self-esteem)

Bible panic, echinacea Rise in fist from the soil rich with blood Baptist fever and cattails sprouting out of my neck You’re teeth are wet and hell’s descent is slowly pulling on your nose stud In a trailer park in Davie The sun is bright enough to annoy me It annoys me as if I shouldn’t just be grateful I can see the sun In a trailer park in Davie We bitch about everything and everyone It’s a religion, it’s a hobby, it’s family fun Naked in a trailer park in South Florida Naked in a trailer park in South Florida Naked in a trailer park in South Florida Disinfecting the corpse poetry Tripping over clovers like they’re anarchic shoelaces This is the part where the author forgot to include an apology To all the righteous and pure people out there who couldn’t accept it anyway Dead things don’t change faces Dead things don’t change faces Dead things don’t change faces Naked in a trailer park in South Florida Naked in a trailer park in South Florida Naked in a trailer park in South Florida

The cat walks in with a tea kettle Boiling puss and moss to forge a new mettle The last alchemist I kissed was a nobel prize winner The cat is in the kitchen eating all my dinner The cat walks in with a trash bag In Britan they call cigarettes fags In the U.S. it’s a word insecure fucks call those they’re afraid of The cat walks in with the trash bag and I think they’re in love Trash cat Trash cat Trash cat Dulce dropped the doll crop top The cat decided to recall the crime Like the detective who hand-cuffed your hand to mine The cat walks in with the Coke Kingpin The cat walks in with a grudge The cat walks in with the sleeping dolphins The cat walks in with a body I feel it in my heart I’m facing bars I feel it in my heart I’m facing bars I feel it in my heart I’m facing bars Trash Cat Trash Cat Trash Cat

God's pride in lavender light Mount Moriah Sarah's only son spared from his Dad's paranoia By the bramble-haired wing wearing the pre-sacrificed face Another blue ribbon of faith for your trophy case "I don't want to see Ike's charred bones!", cried the goat Before Abe's blade went under his own throat, prepared to promote Ishmael awoke to his mother screaming, coat raised over head A fever of perceiving waiting for the begat's blood to spread Across Jerusalem the bastards and cedars vomit and resist They take the ribs of those who christened the slaughterhouse crucifix While missionaries from the Ladder Day Saints all land in the Caribbean To flex their fist of control and eat fruit thats forbidden You hidden with the salt, mid-Mediterranean The messiah sprouts in the Tigris and drowns in the great rains again Ike's eyes suffocated by the betrayal of Abraham Who naively assured his son it was all part of God's plan We joke about the children of Abraham We joke about the children of Abraham We joke about the children of Abraham We are the children of Abraham

I feel my feet getting static in the slush of a small town I feel like a feral cat hissing at everyone I know Watching my empty mood detour down through the door toward deranged If you’re paying enough attention you can hear my voice change And all the scars scurry like spiders from my armpits They wrap around my shoulder ‘til my skin splits at their lines And I feel like maybe I would be making more sense to you If I had simply said that my scars they spread like vines If I don’t seem like myself will you throw me from the balcony Three stories above the place where I will learn to rot If i don’t seem like myself will you throw me from the balcony Three stories before the one that finally has a plot I feel everything but an image that’s inspiring I smell everything but the variety of cigarettes stained to my clothes I feel already dead or else god damned and dying It feels like life is slowly pulling the crusting nails from all my toes Insert a page into the folder that they keep at my psychologist It says the patient is probably full of violent thoughts Maybe you will find me in five years when I think POTUS is out to get me And you’ll rubberneck and laugh and call the cops If I don’t seem like myself will you throw me from the balcony Three stories above the place where I will learn to rot If I don’t seem like myself will you throw me from the balcony Three stories before the one that finally has a plot Psychosocial failures over some psychosis My cycle of sick seasons never cease When I was six years old I said I’d be just like my brother Before I showed the symptoms of my brothers disease If I don’t seem like myself will you throw me from the balcony Three stories above the place where I will learn to rot If I don’t seem like myself will you throw me from the balcony Three stories before the one that finally has a plot

Jesus dined with the disciples at a Chik-fil-a Then he made tabbouleh with the queer blue-haired anarchist And he went down to the local Food Not Bombs to do what he could do with two fish He recounted it all to me I am his therapist And he talked about the chess game that he played with Terry Pratchett And he talked about rock climbing with the teenage adderall addict And he talked about the many times his Dad called him a faggot And he talked about some nostalgia for being unknown Jesus drank a 40 with the nazi they passed out on the White House carpet And Jesus smoked the burning bush at a Bernie rally with the marxist Wait Jesus died for the school shooter He died for the Parkland Activist Jesus died for the schizophrenic and the abusive narcissist Jesus died for the dismissed survivor And he died for the rapists And he lived for you And I remember when he told me I love them that’s why they’re going to crucify me This whole world is bad karaoke but I don’t really wanna go Existence has its limits and there’s no pain like forgiveness But you’re important He wanted you to know

Colonies of fire ants Disband and reunite around my shamrock feet My branches form the china bowl that hold Jehova’s arteries You can watch them rot and bloom on repeat Fed on espresso beans and failure Next to a trailer, well-hidden in the long lemongrass One misstep away from a serpent made out of cigarette ash All day, all day Comfort is in short supply I want truth, I want warmth, I want to die Through the rotary winds phasered inflection I heard the ultra-violet voice of Jim Hensen He was singing the last verse of rainbow connection Then he was gone, gone, gone in the pentagrams perfection But before he left me to the company of the sprouted candlewicks He told me to drink tomato sauce and take iron supplements He told me to keep my feet out of other people’s shit He told me to quit smoking Fuck off Jim I’ll quit when I wanna quit And all day, all day Comfort is in short supply I want truth, I want warmth, I want to die I want truth (I am alone now, I’m alone, I’m alone, with the tone of Floridian Rhythm) (We are the children of Abraham, naked in a trailer park) (Jesus saves himself for once) (Rage, rage, rage me, I’m a chameleon fulfilling your needs) (You are important) (I am alone now) I am alone now I’m alone, I’m alone With the tone of Floridian Rhythm I am alone now I’m alone, I’m alone Now That’s What I Call Music