Augustine breathes a sigh of relief,
He's spending too much time on these mysteries,
Homilies on shared miseries,
And they all sound the same.
Augustine traces these haunted walls,
He hears suffering like a banshee's call,
Memories that don't belong to him,
On a dark ship sailing in.
Augustine feels the weight of evil,
As he moves through a day that is seemingly civil,
His soul rips at his body now,
Cities built at a godly pace.
Buildings move and airplanes fly,
Now Augustine might touch the sky,
The stars fall and the sun dies,
Now Augustine might touch the sky.
Buildings move and airplanes fly,
Now Augustine might touch the sky,
The stars fall and the sun dies,
Now Augustine might touch the sky,
Kings rule and people die,
Now Augustine might tough the sky,
Buildings move and airplanes fly,
Now Augustine might touch the sky.
He thinks of love as heaven at first,
Says his kingdom's not of this earth,
Now he sees Christ in life itself,
Drives out heretics in droves.
Buildings move and airplanes fly,
Now Augustine might touch the sky,
The stars fall and the sun dies,
Now Augustine might touch the sky.
Augustine died on Christmas Eve,
Slumped over the pulpit with a sigh of relief,
Said he'd rather have sinners and sheep,
Than seventeen righteous ones.
credits
from Hectic in L.A.,
released October 14, 2022
Drums: Isaac Pincus
Backing vocals: Oliver Divone, Catherine King
Cajon: Eoin Riley-Duffy
Trumpet: Christine Lederer
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