Who will wipe this blood off us? With what water could we purify ourselves?" How shall we, murderers of all murderers, console ourselves? That which was the holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet possessed has bled to death under our knives. But how have we done this? How were we able to drink up the sea? Who gave us the sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What did we do when we unchained the earth from its sun? Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving now? Away from all suns? Are we not perpetually falling? Backward, sideward, forward, in all directions? Is there any up or down left? Are we not straying as through an infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it not become colder? Is it not more and more night coming on all the time? Must not lanterns be lit in the morning? Do we not hear anything yet of the noise of the gravediggers who are burying God? Do we not smell anything yet of God's decomposition? Gods too decompose. Reminds me of this from Nietzsche: "Where has God gone?" he cried. Now she just screams how I promised her more than thisĪnd I'll always remember you wild as they do come We drink on the job then we go home earlyĪnd I remember she used to look so good in that dress What's left for God to teach from his thrown?Īnd I can't stand the weather, no I never liked the rain With everything discovered just waiting to be known Now everybody lately is living up in spaceįlying through transmissions on invisible airwaves The place where you were in my heart is now closed
And I'll always remember you, wild as they comeĪnd though if I saw you I'd pretend not to know
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