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Dogma

by Keenan O'Meara

[Verse 1]
Don't mind the obvious omen
They'd caught no flu right up 'till you
And died right at your feet
The thunder hence
The water spouts that were threatening
To open up right up above your head

[Chorus]
I've no stinkin' prophecy
The dogma, the nonsense
The old ideas
The people you were praying to
Had long since decomposed
As if they weren't pretty enough

[Verse 2]
Don't bother dwelling on the possibility
Everyone knows
The gardener sews
A little poison with the seeds
You wrote it out
Constant words about those
Victims of manmade disturbances

[Chorus/Outro]
I've no stinkin' prophecy
The dogma, the nonsense
The old ideas
The people you were calling to
Had no means to record
Your worldly grievances