[ WP ] Track list poetry

I was born unto Catholics with black hearts: 
 
 Their forked tongues would take me to church each week, 
 
 Assuring me I was sick, full of dark 
 
 And vile things; lies were their favourite choice 
 
 For keeping me sedated, in control. 
 
 Mum and Dad showed me love: plastic, poison. 
 
 The truth, to me, was sweet as cherry wine, 
 
 However bitter-sweet too much can be. 
 
 I came to hear their spite, even with God- 
 
 So I gave up the saints, priests, the Virgin Mary, 
 
 Taking instead to the bottle, syringe, 
 
 Calling on the angel of small death more 
 
 Than the purest beings that fled from Eden. 
 
 God could not love me by the things he did. 
 
 I traded blood with demons and took up 
 
 The false mantra of a foreigner's god, 
 
 Reforming myself into someone new. 
 
 I was John, James, Paul, Jackie and Wilson, 
 
 A thousand faces- all gone in a week. 
 
 Psychs tried to tame me, but all I could do 
 
 Was run, dodge the work song of poor masses, 
 
 Burning and hurting like real people do. 
 
 Love found me in the woods somewhere; 
 
 As much pleasure as I felt, it stung me 
 
 That it would not stay; I learned to give up, 
 
 To fight, to be alone, to just be free. 
 
 Love, however, wo n't quit. It will come back. 
 
 It pulls you closer with every damn step, 
 
 Until it's suffocating you with bliss, 
 
 Biding its time until it flies again.
