Leper's Grace

Come close, touch the wounds that grace me

You pious manchild, so keen to grasp

Why your path is not my path

Or why you fear the things I adore

But know it is the certainty of death and its stench

That I crave, and that makes me want more

Not your sanctimonious affirmation

Nor your cage of gold

No

Never saw the dignity in the act to submit or conform

And even less so in the willful enforcement

Of guilt and of norm

Never been able to understand

Your voluntary slavery

The true rebels I have known

They broke their chains, they lived and died free

Constantly in the vicinity

Of death and demise

Eternally in mutiny

Against Christ (Christ, Christ)

In your world so white and right

I'll be the wrong, I'll be the night

Your shame, my pride

Beyond illusion, beyond sex and race

I bow before the leper's grace

Beware, ye tender hearts

The satanic force of darkness

A tumor that festers in the godhead

Wild and free, our work must be

A cultivation of evil

To sting, to twist and stir

Blessed by the rabid curse

Outcast, exiled and banished

Deep in night forlorn

Where demons chant

At the leper's throne

Rising from the slums of Sodom

The rank stench of love gone vile

Up into the halls of heaven

Beware, ye clean, of the unclean

In your world of peace and light

We are the filth, we are the fight

On these fields we are the scythe

Now kiss the blisters upon the face

Of rotting death, the leper's grace