1
We came up from the sea
Then we lay in the sand
But continue to breathe
Watching Micheal's white hands
Now the wind brings a thirst
And some seeds from the past
And they come in a swarm
To deliver their harm
To the people that hide
In their rooms in the walls
In a country nowhere
Where their children eat gold
Where our dreams are laid bare
Where no future is laid past
Where we wonder this land
Watching Micheal's white hands
Make his body like Christ
Come to me in this bed
Yet the animals cry
Micheal's face is gone dead
But he never was born
So he never could die
Feed his thirst without drugs
Michael's hands will touch us
Yes I believe in nothing clear
But I believe in Micheal's beard
Kingdom shines upon his face
Here she comes to us I kneel
Cut the heart out from our holes
His hands of love are heavy coals
Michael comes with hands of mead
Michael comes with lightning teeth
Michael brings the truth denied
Michael kills the child inside
Break the trees up for our fuels
Break the streets upon the ruins
Bring destruction and bring the end
Feed the gas into my lungs
Yes I believe in Micheal's hands
I believe in Micheal's hands
Then we lay in the sand
But continue to breathe
Watching Micheal's white hands
Now the wind brings a thirst
And some seeds from the past
And they come in a swarm
To deliver their harm
To the people that hide
In their rooms in the walls
In a country nowhere
Where their children eat gold
Where our dreams are laid bare
Where no future is laid past
Where we wonder this land
Watching Micheal's white hands
Make his body like Christ
Come to me in this bed
Yet the animals cry
Micheal's face is gone dead
But he never was born
So he never could die
Feed his thirst without drugs
Michael's hands will touch us
Yes I believe in nothing clear
But I believe in Micheal's beard
Kingdom shines upon his face
Here she comes to us I kneel
Cut the heart out from our holes
His hands of love are heavy coals
Michael comes with hands of mead
Michael comes with lightning teeth
Michael brings the truth denied
Michael kills the child inside
Break the trees up for our fuels
Break the streets upon the ruins
Bring destruction and bring the end
Feed the gas into my lungs
Yes I believe in Micheal's hands
I believe in Micheal's hands
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A hallucinogenic/symbolic association of two media boogeymen: Michael Jackson, who Gira considers, from the media's perspective, a sort of androgynous nymph, the materialisation of desired glamour and by extension all of our decadences unleashed, with Saddam Hussein, this amorphous force overshadowing it all, an almost fictional beast as if of legend. It's all a tadge metaphorical.