Broken Chariot

An archeology into the Heart of mental illness in Love, and the mature surrender of illusion…

Krishna cooks bacon; this side of the road
Hot Miso Soup and a six-pack of Stroh's
Light doesn’t blind; now we both can see
The ways and means of stark insanity

I asked him how, why, what must be
He slapped me up, “Don’cha whore for me”
So better suited: Savior in dis-guise
Love would un-hinge me; win an ill-sought prize

Chorus:
Broken Chariot: Gita’s got me by the balls
Broken Chariot: Come clean these filthy walls

Wisdom of Ages
Bristles on an old stick broom
Angel’s would fear to tread
Her lit-up first floor room

Chrous:
Broken Chariot: Christ’s tears shone in Her eyes
Not for Her own sake, but the Warden and His lies.

Busted my own heart, now I’m sinkin’ in
World as Lover, not my mis-shaped box of Sin
Cautious Sister: with those smiling eyes
Eyes now taken, but “Per-haps” can stay a while

Chorus:
Broken Chariot: i fade; a spacious room
Broken Chariot: Spirit born to Mary’s womb