THE DAY GOD DIED 

 

I only remember now because I seen a picture

of Holy cross on the hill. It was nineteen seventy 

or seventy one I climbed the steps like a good 

Christian boy armed with a plastic mother of pearl

missal and all of god’s joy. going to see my

best friend.

 

Gunfire burst behind me on the Crumlin Road

For god and ulster he cried and held up his gun.

Three people lay dead at his feet, I watched

From bushes just feet away.

 

I looked up to the great doors threw my missal 

away and ran home crying, I cried all the way 

to this day, I still can’t fathom why he done that 

all for green and orange on holy cross hill.

 

I can’t live with that god within my shoes

That day you burst my bubble, gave me the blues.

Now I give it back to you, in these bleeding words

God, you are a bastard who lives dies by the sword.

I want nothing to do with you, ill follow the way

The way is true and tender, beauty is a beautiful day.

Death is part of life naturally I understand, you have

torn us all to shreds for this peaceful pause.

The English and the Irish are at each other’s throats

When will we swallow the truth, and say that no one won.

 

 I witnessed you again along the narrow waters

Hate was in your heart, they cut down our brothers.

Hate was killing hate, all in your name

And no one was there, no one was to blame.

Get on with the living without your bleeding son

No one died for my sins, I’ll die for my own.

I’ll take it on the chin and make this my home

So, fuck off back to god knows where 

and leave me alone.