Holy Holy Little Fist

from Your Body is Your Soul by Boy Without God

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about

I wrote the lyrics to this song in a passenger's seat deam while on tour with my buddy Alex Morris.

lyrics

Holy Holy Little Fist

Burden me with white coats, twist apart my fingers into symphonies or wild oats
single single single to the end of earth and cutlery, tools made out of birds and iron
sawing at the wide world, tearing at the holy mother

We are fields of wise goats defecating joyfully
we prick our fingers with our souls, endless endless endless are
we are fields of wise goats celebrating joylessly
we scream until we fill the holes. endless endless endless we are not
we are not

the humiliation of never knowing
the pleading eyes the phony longing
he says "okay okay to the ocean
but I will never drown with you"

celebrate your cellophane
the masquerade through windowpanes
or eyes that churn so quietly
endure endure the agony
I know fate is a lead coat
weighin weighin weighin on our
silky ties and dead bolts
all our exoskeletons
I know fate is lead, molten,
pouring pouring pouring into
forms we cannot understand
guided by our own two hands
jesus and the lord god
holy holy little fist
holy holy little fist
holy holy little fist

well I know fate is a telescope
a trick to take our eyes from us
and drop them on the moonscapes
flaccid flaccid evermore
I know fate is a dead horse
it's snowing in the desert tonight
I wanna die young, by my own design because

the humiliation of never knowing
the crying child, the woman yawning
the icy cold ejaculation
bought for words of consolation

he says "I am not an animal I am not an animal I am not an animal I am not an animal etc etc etc

credits

from Your Body is Your Soul, released July 1, 2009
All music, lyrics by Gabriel Birnbaum

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Boy Without God Brooklyn, New York

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