Showing posts with label St Kenneth Walker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label St Kenneth Walker. Show all posts

Thursday, March 19, 2020

Till Jesus Comes, No time to Think

Till Jesus Comes” (There’s No Time To Think)


                                              
An original song by Paul Manski. Written 03-19-2020 All Music and Lyrics by Paul Manski. All electric and acoustic guitars, harmonicabass, percussion, performed, recorded and mixed by Paul Manski. For Eileen, Joshua, Father Joseph Terra, St Kenneth Walker, St Marcel Lefebvre, and to all those who believe in the real work. Blessings. 


Lyrics:
“i awoke from a dream at the Deer-House, passed ruins, to an empty room. As I walked, witches flew in the sky underneath the blood red moon. The throne of the king was empty, laid waste by thieves. I saw a Blonde young princess, wrapped in chains, captivated by the falling leaves.

Fair is foul, and foul is fair. Empty hammers strike the bells. I grovel thru the filthy air, hoping to hear the ringing of the bells…There was No Time To Think…
                           

I approach the Blonde haired princess, bound & chained. Next to her are Seven angels with Seven vials, all of them blood stained.
She was clothed in purple scarlet, a golden cup in her hand, Gilt with gold, precious stones and pearls. The angels lifted the cup up to her lips to drink. With each sip I saw another dead Christian soldier…Till Jesus comes…There is No Time to Think…
                              

I was led to a shining city, to a church near the capital.
I was made to watch a priest, 
                        

beaten, to death at the foot of his altar. The police arrived just then and they called it a robbery. 
                               

The judge spoke, “We find no guilt in this man, absolutely, no culpability. The priest should have known better than to preach pride, mercy or dignity. We don’t need those things no more.” I said
                


…Till Jesus comes…There’s no, No time to think… 


Inside the church Salome danced for masked Herod the king. The singers and entertainers had many gifts to bring. On the marble steps near the altar where the blood of John the Baptist fell. They expected flowers to grow instead there was sadness, and nothing was well.

Where before banners waved and children danced, now desolation Filled the land.
For 14 years I wandered trying to say the words, “Till Jesus comes”,  There’s No time to think…



At the palace of the king the angels placed a mask upon the throne. Saturn returns, dressed in rags, his voice a whispered hollow stone. He said to me, “A righteous woman, who would understand?  Every man deserves a courtesan someone to hold, to caress with his hands.”

I wait for you where winter turns slowly into spring. The Pasque flower blooms beneath the Ironwood and palo verde trees…Till Jesus Comes…No Time To Think…





I was led to a market along dry river, 
where children stare at their reflection’s in a mirror. Their women bear no children, The echo repeats, “who’s there? Who’s there? Who’s there?”    

The children with endless hunger swoon, their hunger never filled. Their Nemesis an endless hunger for echoes of the daffodil. 
Such a strange foolish bargain, to have all songs sung in the mirror. Faith in their hands shall snap in two…Till Jesus comes…There’s No Time To Think



I was given bitter poison to drink, and slowly walked away. I saw a blue feathered stellar jay on a yucca impaled.  Seven angels with Seven vials showed me the harlot’s great city of Seven Hills. The White bishop wanders the city in ruins, with trembling halting steps.

He prays for the souls of corpses, that he meets along the way.
At the top of the mountain I saw the White Bishop get blown away…Till Jesus Comes, There’s No Time to Think



On Every high hill, under every green tree, all former things have passed away. Enough with words…Behold I make all things new, Till Jesus comes…There’s No time to think… Till Jesus comes…There’s No time to think…

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