"Kiss me - full on the mouth!
Yes! For your love is better than wine,
headier than your aromatic oils"
But then they were heady with reds;
reds under the nuptial beds,
commie Jews cosy with Moscow
whilst Bible-belted saints
tooled up to rape Korea
and oils greased dictators' palms
aromatic as napalmed children.
So what was true and what was not?
Home of the huckster evangelist,
land of the brave lynch-gang,
stuffing their mouths with Coke and McDonalds
stuffing their ears with Mickey and Donald
against the cries of the murdered in Hiroshima, Nagasaki and
who the hell were they to say?
And so to that last pure kiss;
passion as poison to the redneck vermin
who'd framed you in perverted hate:
They'd get their sparks
and cream their jeans
when they threw the switch on you
and orphaned two young boys.
So I'd take American justice
and spit in its filthy face;
but all I can do is commend you to God's grace.
"Run to me, dear lover,
come like a gazelle.
Leap like a wild stag
on the spice mountains."
(Quotations from The Song Of Songs in the Old Testament)