have you come to play Jesus to the lepers in my head

spirit moonshine, marmalade melodies
cheapest feel-good in a sixpack
for all the lonely, broken and homeless, heaven in an autoinjector
pilgrims, poor, parched, seeking for the holy grail
for the well that never dries
but all they stock is turkish delight

drum roll, the minor second
anthem belted out in nasal twangs
fill in the jazz keys
and wala
instant fragrance

but the chords fail to tug
seed falling on a hardened heart

you think you've got the stuff
but you left a bad taste in my mouth

but hey
even Jesus got served cheap wine when he hung on the cross