Art by Norman E. Masters
A man will come his feet will walk the earth a purer man than me they will call him you he will stop to touch and not be knocked over by the crowds He will make the crowds They will stop and feel he will come to see what we have done him Cry knowing he'll watch us and not laugh like some might We will tho out his eyes and scream holy to the sunrise. We will watch him shit to save humanity We'll make an altar out of his shirt but never to his mind. He might touch us baby blue eyes never to be. Never be So you see we will stand with him but he'll be alone And though my tears touch the sage We kill him to cry love |