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The Idols They Will Make

from PLAYFIGHT by The Joe

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about

A song about the Artist, the World, and Worship.

lyrics

They made a statue out of me;
they're surrounding me with scaffolding
telling me to hold still
When in actuality
it's impossible, I have to breathe,
I'm starting to get cold chills.
I see them melting precious metals,
stirring in some flower petals,
smelting out the dross.
They've hired shrinks to help me settle
down, "Settle down. While the kettle sounds
try to think of God!"
Now the cauldron's hoisted over me,
I've not been given anesthetic, I don't know
if I can take the heat.
I clench my teeth and groan and wheeze —
my face encrypted with a look of pain and duty
eternally.
Now I see they've chosen copper bronze.
I understand why — cause it will turn green
eventually.
Now the masses take the massive tongs,
they pluck me up, colossus that I am,
from the ground with ease.
They dip me in the black sea,
I feel the salt cauterize my eyes,
and now it's hard to see properly.
The water seems to attack me,
I hum a tune I'd written long ago
to help me cope with such defeat.



They set me in the town square,
I feel the sun glare intensely
on my copper solid carapace
And I can feel the crowd there,
squirming at my feet, marvelling at me,
hurling their imperatives.
I smell the food left at my feet,
entire cattle roasted, wheat and wine
and corn and rice,
And though i hunger like a beast,
I can't move or bend a knee
to eat their sacrifice.
And now I hear their desperate voice,
calling out, all at once,
help us know ourselves.
(help us know ourselves.)
It escalates to such a noise
that I can't tell the words apart, i'm stuck in bronze
how am I suppose to help?
And now they start to sing,
and it's startling, it's a song
that I myself had written once.
Last time I sang it I was gargling,
they must have heard and from this herd
of sheep, the incantation comes,



It isn't long before the food starts to rot,
I can smell it from on high,
the putrid fumes are pungeant,
The masses start to whine a lot,
the sacrifices change from beef
and grouse to leeks and onions,
After weeks and months and years
the faithful disappear, their prayers
and hopes are unfulfilled,
I stand alone on high and hear
the town go about their lives
and I'm alive upon the hill.
A couple generations pass,
men begin to tear the oxidized
copper walls from my skin
They replace their rooves of thatch
with the greening tin
and I begin to get some oxygen
leaking in. gasp.
They pay no heed to me,
they take from me, they cleave from me,
I remember when they needed me.
As the exoskeleton is carried off,
I'm bit by bit released until my eyes can see that
I am not their God.
I stumble off.
I can hear my thoughts,
As I walk away
I can sing again.

credits

from PLAYFIGHT, released June 19, 2010
I took the original instrumental from Daedelus, it is a collaboration with Prefuse 73. This is one of my all time favorite instrumentals. Mitch Holtby recorded the jam. Liam Trimble, Caity Fisher, and Mitch backed up the singing in the second chorus where the whole town has gathered together. OLD UGLY Recording Co.

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about

The Joe Alberta

Edmonton's son, cut from the cloth.

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