• Vol. 04
  • Chapter 10

Nobody Gets Too Much Heaven

We three are nailed to this jukebox
              music drips from our wrists and feet
If we wiggle big toes we can select paradise
But records bleed their way out
waving passports stamped with forsaken
                      miracles and earthquakes
Christ has two choices
bone for bone we are the same
the rain weeps for our list of sins
                           scratched in the air
The wind is howling
                          the sky moaning
                          night is flowing    we beg
                     Him to give us white dreams
                         but I say:  Look into my heart
                                                 ask winter to leave
                                                          I see beyond forever