Carrying a burden like yours, I'd lust for weightlessness
just to float.
No aching spine
nor swelling breasts
nor talk of adultery
or god's Golden Plan -
That heavy plan.
Come down to the river.
I'll tell you why.
His burden is louder but
still, he thrives.
Why one river, all the time?
He gets tired, too
Swallowing unwanted bodies of selfish children
ropes and poison
He wears their bones round his neck
- until they rot -
and stinks of dry blood.
Ah, Maria, do you see the other side?
your Golden Plan, with His meddling magic
will bring the world to its knees
demolishing pain, banishing sin, destroying crimes of the Tree
turning them into sunshine and godliness -
but the poor river will forever run,
my dear river will ever breathe mercy on the wasted.
nobody will remember the scorched earth,
nobody will remember my mercy river,
the river of the unforgiven.
But you - you, Maria
you have great power now -
the Plan has not begun and
the King has not yet been born-
the King bleeding alabaster perfume,
whose scent is not yet good nor evil.
So while you can,
grab your weightlessness
and while you can,
Maria, will you remember my river?
[He only needs a spoon of medicine]
And you, you've got the best beastly burden,
the King who bleeds myrrh and wine -
Ave Maria -
won't you jump in?