Injunction to the Innocent

You hide behind that halo

and those wings aren't meant for running.

I wonder one day

if you'll ever stop and breathe.

These hymns aren't saying anything

and the world is too old for this-

your playacting at purity.

So stop and feel the dust beneath your feet

feel it through your bones

track it through these red ropes woven of it

and remember-

ashes ashes we all fall down.

So let loose your little pose

because, babe, you're too old for this.

The race goes to the runner

and the prize to the liar.

You've got blood along your white robes

and stains on your pearly toes.

So give in and let go.

Live a little.