The Divine Suicide of K.

I Better think of my answers now 
because I know the questions will be asked 
Like if I brought the joy I found 
in the confessions of a mask 
The tip of my tongue's already touching the top of my mouth 
It's meaning manifest in mercy 
Burning down, Burning down
Burning down, Burning down
Burning down, Burning down
Burning down the house 

It's true that tactless teem totem-poles turn tolerance to tired taboos 
It's true that a bullet never knocks on the door, 
it's about to come crashing through 

I'm walking one last mile in big steps as your alter-wine 
I'm doing it in tattered shoes that aren't even mine 
Because my own are in a box locked up with possessions I can't have 
Like the gunman with his future and the prison priest's golden calf 

I'm walking one last mile...
I'm walking one last mile...

Blindfolds aside I'd probably still close my eyes 
And try to feel for a trembling fetal life inside 
With that shotgun barrel that's about to make me bleed 
Like an ulcer in the stomach of the beast 

Like a little girl on a bed that was years ago deceased 
Resurrected last night with a letter she can't trace 

Resurrected to be killed and maybe born again 
I'll always be Kezia so long as any hope remains