Lyrics:
Well, Jesus emerged from the desert one day, head like a smoking gun Brain aboil with faith till God said, "Sorry, you ain't my son" Well, Jesus'
to come Your morning world is framed by shuttered curtains And hot steam from a kettle aboil And a lonesome lamp that flickers seven watts of LED As you
from the earth Wherefore these skies all a-boil? So may this wickedness be no more And every creature's prayer is on the blowing wind And every step we
of a subtle way to keep me in my place. Perspiring as mercury rises, each peak leaves my blood aboil. My steaming flesh screams Recoil!, heart implores I
to the clothespin arbor At our last dinner on the cemetery coil You said, It's hard being human when your blood's aboil I'm bare new wood I'm young and spry I
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