About God and Life and that Sorta Stuff
I need Your help, Lord, what should I do?
I don't know how to pray to You,
My words are jumbled up, confused,
My conscience prods me, I'm accused
Of doing things I shouldn't do
And thinking things I shouldn't think
And drowning everything in drink! !
I remember, when I went to school,
I thought the teacher was a fool;
How could a person who was crucified
Come back to life? I was sure he lied.
The Virgin Birth was just a joke,
Women can't get pregnant without a bloke,
Who was this teacher trying to kid?
I knew far more than that teacher did!
Why should I care about my soul?
I was much more interested in Rock & Roll!
My Christian friends seemed rather wet
(But they were tempted too I bet!)
While they were keeping their conscience clean
I'd found a far more interesting scene,
It was on the other side of town
(The side that's mentioned with a frown!)
I'd found a street were the lights were red
And people spent most of their time in bed.
A stranger filled me with desire
And set my soul and limbs on fire.
So what if they did it for a price
With a 'Thank you, dear, that was very nice'?
Oh, I was hooked, I knew it too,
But I always surrendered, well wouldn't you?
First there was sex and the came drugs
(My chaste old school-friends must be mugs!)
I couldn't wait to get my fix,
I lived for alcohol, drugs and chicks!
I didn't know there'd come a day
When the bright lights vanished and all was grey!
Depression came to rule instead
Of the pleasures of my girlfriend's bed,
My life was ruined, full of grief,
I had no comfort, no belief
To cling to in my hour of need,
Christianity seemed a hollow creed.
The You came knocking on my empty heart
And promised me a Brand New Start!
After all the suffering and pain
You said I could be Born Again!
A pretty end to this confession!
And I'm sorry if I gave the impression
That you'd be hearing songs and laughter
[...] Read more
poem by John Thorkild Ellison
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