There is almost nothing worse in the world than to have a brief glimpse—of clarity, of the Absolute, of All and Everything—and to realize that that is as close as you will ever get, because you have not been chosen.

It is even worse to realize that you WERE chosen and that you failed to meet the challenge; to realize only too late that you had a chance to truly make a difference in this world and you rejected the offer, either out of fear, or disinterest, or lack of belief in your destiny.

You could've been a savior, a messiah, even—and in this age that would have meant magazine covers, television appearances, movie deals, book deals, women, men, dolphins—whatever you like. And that reminds me of something I've been thinking about. You know how they have bestiality? Is there like a thing like a fetish for fucking seafood? Like trying to see how many octopus legs you could take up your ass at one time? Or electric eels? Or like fucking a whale in the blowhole? Or like trying to get a dolphin to blow you? Dolphins are very smart; they could learn how to give blowjobs. You could get a blowjob or at least a flipperjob from a—well, maybe not you, but maybe, like, you gotta figure someone out there somewhere has gotten a blowjob from a dolphin. Maybe like a Dr. Dolittle type who could talk to the animals, learn their languages, and teach the dolphins how to please him. Or her, maybe, I don't know.

And I figure those S&M folks are really missing out if they've never used lobsters for nipple clamps. There's all this possibility out there, and it's gotta make you wonder, what's wrong with you? That time that God spoke to you and showed you the way, clear as day, and you were like "No way; too much work; I'm busy; I'm too tired; I don't even believe in you anyway; what's in it for me?"—well, you fucked up, didn't you? You sell your soul to the devil, you get like four dollars, but if you had come when God called, you would have gotten whatever you want—a nose job, a fifty-inch TV set, a waterbed filled with Calista Flockhart's urine, whatever you want. But you said no to God, and now you'll NEVER get to go out with Christina Ricci. You'll NEVER get a Chitty Chitty Bang Bang car that can float and fly. You'll NEVER get to visit Mars, or the future, or Marrakesh. But you never know: many are called, but few are chosen, but some are chosen more than once. You might get another chance. There is always hope.

Lyrics submitted by Eamon

The Chosen song meanings
Add your thoughts

No Comments

sort form View by:
  • No Comments

Add your thoughts

Log in now to tell us what you think this song means.

Don’t have an account? Create an account with SongMeanings to post comments, submit lyrics, and more. It’s super easy, we promise!

Back to top