Jack Hardy The Guttersnipe . mp3 download
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Jack Hardy - The Guttersnipe

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Lyrics of Jack Hardy - The Guttersnipe :

sing halleluiah for the guttersnipe lives

he's not at all behind all your middleclass ways

cry no, i am drowning for i cannot forgive

for all wealth is measured in stacks of days

pigeons and peons bear the laurel wreath

my head is pounding on the door of my heart

placing reason as an icon of grief

turned wretched as a gargoyle drenched in the dark

drenched in the dark

the guttersnipe stares with an alterboy smile

the glare of irrelevance as they taunt him and tease him

crying from the wilderness of middleclass style

they watch his boat as it sinks into knowledge

over those youthful dreams sunk deep in the fruit

learning patience is no virtue, it's a vice

they were so far ahead they were known as truth

staring at prisms of light and prisons of life

prisons of life

where the prison flowers shrink from lack of love

examine that freedom, that pain in your stem

is there no relief outside the gates of enough?

only pigeons seeking crumbs where the guttersnipe's been

the love of old ladies and disease of young maids

they make children smile as they scatter with the wind

filth is the fever of the middleclass mind

all wrapped up in waste and wealth and in wine

wealth and wine

tell me of your passions, you slimy small waif

with your big toe in the water and your throat full of thirst

there is nothing to repeat of the miseries of hate

they are your wealth and your redemption for sinning

in this foul-smelling hell-hole where the guttersnipe dines

with desire rubbing bellies with disgrace and disease

endless stairways out of the squalor to climb

with dreams void of color, forced to their knees

forced to their knees

the radiant smile of the catholic queen

has sent chills into believers like a dangling rope

tied to the trunk of a century-old tree

in a forest of drunk dropping breadcrumbs for hope

black candles, black roses, the givers of false light

the saint of prostitution and the sacrament of fright

how they drip so fast, forcing the middleclass flight

the forgers of freedom and the sorcerers of the night

sorcerers of the night

no way to play the tunes on the stench of winter winds

where the notes form in agony, blunt and tortured within

others who had paid the price write back of legends

with imagery of topcoats dragged through alleys of sin

pleasing little puppets with their thank-you-ma'am smiles

taking trainrides to excellence, keeping journals of each smile

but always riding first class so as to not leave home

and claiming every discount 'cept the one left alone

the one that's always left alone

sing halleluiah for the guttersnipe breaks bread

those hands that hold the loaves in the windows of hope

all twisted and warm with the honesty of death

and yearning for mouths all hungry and cold

a moment of silence for the guttersnipe lives

your companion in dreams refuses to smile

his wealth is the fact that he has nothing to give

as he beckons your madness to enter his trial

enter his trial

long into the late hours of winter afternoons

so callused and thickskinned in his cradle of cold

all shivering and shaking with his outstretched tongue

and swearing at indifference with a penicillin grin

his song is distilled from deceit and despair

the burden of destiny from sorrows and sins

those beautiful eyes sunk in the wilderness of care

and a voice from within cries i am here

i am here

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