Holy men and holy books guide us on the way.
Holy statues and holy water are used to have us pray.
Up holy mounts, down holy wells or a rub of a relic or two.
By which we are wholly duped to keep us wholly fooled.
The men in robes, in finery, gold
Stand in their glittering halls
Of sparkling mosque and church and temple
And preach against the Fall.
'You cannot understand', they say
'The Mysteries of Yahweh,
Of Allah or of Good God's word
It's for us to point the way'.
'So do not trouble thinking
Or looking on this planet
For freedom from life's pains and woes
That's not just how we've planned it'.
'Remember to forget, dear people
That we will be your guide
To the Promised Land beyond the sky
And to Paradise you'll fly'.
'The sacred truths must remain well-hid
From the likes of those like you
Who fill our pockets each holy day
For the style we're accustomed to'.
'So get this, dear sheep,
And listen close, to your holy shepherd
We know all and you know nought
That's how we have designed it'.
'The pie is in the sky, my flock
So do not utter, 'But'.
Starve ye on, dear people
Whilst we feed our holy gut'.
'Blessed are the meek we tell
And meek we intend you'll stay
By spinning mystic stories
On your knees we'll make you pray'.
'You'll not stand unless we let you
By the sounding of our bell
And if you rise 'gainst our holy writ
We'll damn you all to hell'.
Holy fuck, Batman!
⏩Jim Owens grew up in working class Belfast. His father joined the Royal Navy to put food on the family table in an era when jobs for those not of a unionist persuasion were hard to come by.