Passerine

Like carillon bells, the house of Augustus rings With the echoing hymn of my fellow passerine, they took to it Like a fox to a burrow, like an eagle to an aerie And my god, it's getting hard to even hum a single thing You were the song that I'd always sing You were the light that the fire would bring But I can't shake this feeling that I was only Pushing the spear into your side again See, my birds of a kind, they more and more are looking like Centurions than any little messiah And as I prune my feathers like leaves from a vine I find that we have fewer and fewer in kind, but My palms and fingers still reek of gasoline From throwing fuel to the fire of that Greco-Roman dream Purifying the holy rock to melt the gilded seams It don't bring me relief, no it don't bring me nothing that You were the song that I'd always sing You were the light that the fire would bring But I can't shake this feeling that I was only Pushing the spear into your side again And again and again When he comes a knocking at my door What am I to do, What am I to do, oh lord When the cold wind rolls in form the north What am I to do, What am I to do, oh lord When he comes a knocking at my door What am I to do, what am I to do, oh lord When the cold wind rolls in form the north What am I to do, what am I to do, oh lord When he comes a knocking at my door What am I to do, what am I to do, oh lord When the cold wind rolls in form the north What am I to do, what am I to do, oh lord