The Jazz Rumbles Through my Inner Yarbles

The Jazz rumbles through my inner yarbles
I can hear now the shouting saying hallelujah to the thronging masses in beautiful tainted buildings.

Death drinks dog's urine,
but I can hear the name of the Lord loud and clear
His name is Bohemoth.
I can see him in the shadow,
Tumbling down that dark hare’s hole,
Teeth grinning wide
I’m driven to do insane things.
Death’s calling the numbers.
Time’s running itself out.
How can I get a score?
Who’s out to get me?
I’ll get em, an' tear em apart!

But the angels!
Those twisted blonde angels!
Singing harps and flinging flower petals!
Rain on me sweet melodies of distant gardens.

Who can I choose?
Devil with his goat-man’s beard
Or Heaven’s angel with curling lockes?

I’m my only own man now, I know.
Send them to the next suckering stoogelet.
I’m goin my own way
With only my back to follow me.

Jesus still shines his grace on me,
Laying one golden brick after the other.
I can’t do no wrong. That’s what he tells me.
I know it ain’t true, so I follow anyway.
I don’t have a clue where it’s goin’,
But I follow anyway.

That old jazz man’s sure laughing his ass off.

If he could hear what’s inside me.
He hears me, an' he hears you.

That old jazz beard’s laughing his manhood off.
Cuz it’s all the same old joke. You know.
Tell it agin' an' agin' an' agin' an' agin' an' agin' an' agin' an' agin' an' agin'!