Steven

from by Pale People

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lyrics

Hello, Steven—good day, Steven—
Are you playing fair?
I see your congregation's left—
You've worn them down with prayer
Every day you curse the black man
And the Jews and queers and freaks
The good Lord speaks
And you listen with tears on your cheeks

Hello, Steven—good day, Steve—
Your church is set aflame
Though you hate them, won't you hear them—
Can't you bless them all the same?
You are righteous—you are elderly—
You beat your children blue
Before they knew
That the good Lord never lived in you

Hello, Steven—bless you—
Let me kiss your ragged cross
The war is over—and I guess you miss
The people that you've lost
How they hated when you raved and screamed
And spoke to them in tongues
At the top of your lungs—
He'll damn them when His kingdom comes

Hello Steven—are you sad?—
I swear you're looking tired
It's not easy when you hate so hard
And when they fight with fire
Heaven help you—Jesus save you—
Everyone who knows your name
Knows you're in pain
And the world needs you to die in shame

Oh—and it's no wonder you can't move
Oh—and you've got nothing left to prove
Oh—the Lord's too hateful to be true
Steven—it's no wonder that He never loved you

Hello, Steven—good day, Steve—
I'll pray for you, I guess
You're sick in the head—your end is nigh—
Perhaps you should confess
You've hurt them smiling—hurt them badly—
And I guess they've hurt you back
But it's hard to track
Your mind is molten and your tongue is black

Hello, Steven—good day, Steven—
Everything is fine
You're an old man, growing weaker—
You can barely count to nine
Everybody dies a hard death
Everyone knows it's your time
Everything is fine
Keep waiting and there might be a sign...

credits

from Portraits, released March 24, 2017

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Pale People Missoula, montana

Take an embittered music school dropout. Add two spoonfuls of faintly balding neurotic. Add heaping handfuls of dark-eyed love prince. Add antidepressants, a piano, small noisy crowds, unsatisfying sex, a wheelchair, a lamp. The band is called Pale People, and one of their songs contains this phrase: "Fetish food play--babysitter wet dream." ... more

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