Where Did It All Go Wrong?

I am diligently working on the “Meaning of meaning” for Poser/Prophet but I got sidetracked by a theological blog or FB comment that said something like, “...where we, or it, all went wrong was....” And that sent me to wondering ( and questioning) the notion that there was some point in the past where things were ‘right’ to begin with; and that a worthy project is to figure out when that was, what it looked like and try to get ourselves back to it. Well, I stayed up half the night writing this little ditty and setting it to music, and obviously things got out of hand! I got ideas for another dozen verses but if any y’all got an idea just tack it there on the bottom, obliged.

When Did It All Go Wrong by Daniel Imburgia

When did it all go wrong, how did we lose our way

Where did the hope and the promises go, from the prophets of yesterday

We once were a family, that shared all our sorrows and pains

Now we are strangers alone in the world with nowhere to hide from the rain.

Don’t blame the sinners and gamblers who bet on the roll of the dice

look in the mirror when the carriage and horses, change into pumpkins and mice

The truth is not hard to find in this world, it’s just hard to look square in the face

We’d rather serve the god’s we deserve, than kneel before mercy and grace.

Don’t look at us with accusing eyes, though we traveled with the man for years

We stuck with him, through the thick and the thin, sharing his hunger and tears

But when It came down to wearing the crown, He just didn’t have the first clue

All this talk about dying and washing our feet, that’s no way to run your own crew

Yes I was the one that the Lord loved the best, I would sit on his right hand side

I Imagined the power that I would wield then, ruling heaven and earth with pride

He rebuked me and said, get behind me instead, I must become servant of all

So why risk my hide, someone’s got to survive, to run things after his fall.

We’re just in town for the high holy days, punch our ticket and get back to home

We’ve spilt enough blood of the sheep and the doves as sinners who need to atone

The next thing you know, we got caught in the flow, and the crowd turned into a mob

We were yelling out loud “crucify him!” then just let us get back to our jobs.

He had plenty of friends when it all began and the miracles fell from on high

The boozers at parties who asked for more wine, but could never drink Mary’s place dry

The cripples the blind the deaf and the bleeding all clamored for just one more touch

But how can you blame us that’s just how we are, one healing is never enough.

Our business was words, we scribe what we’re told, and don’t judge the hearts of men

Let them turn all our phrases into unholy praises, their swords cut deeper than pens

So we found a few loopholes around those commands that ask us to love and repent

They may not be found in the black and the white, but who really knows what He meant

Zeus how I hate this hot dusty place, how I pray to get home to my pasta

All these procuratorial headaches to clean, the hands of Caesar Augusta

Who the hell cares who did what and to whom, among fools flinging arrows and slings

What matters most is that everyone knows there can be just one Kinger of Kings

Don’t look at us we hid out in the desert, trying to keep ourselves undefiled

The world of the flesh will soon burn away like the dry grass stacked in the field

He was the one who mixed it all up, men an women, clean and unclean

We built high walls in our minds and our souls, that’s why they call us Essenes.

Down the dark ally by the bars and the brothels, where the righteous stalk only by night

Live the queers and the hookers that the holiest shun, forced to hide from the light

But they’re not the ones who betrayed him to death, with a lie and a fatal embrace

That was his brother who ate is last super, and then sold him out in disgrace.

We priests did our best to control the unrest, and intercede between sinners and God

Pragmatically speaking better one man goes down, than we all face the firing squad

There’ll be plenty of time some future day, to apologize and make him a saint

Now there’s necks to be slashed, checks to be cashed, money that’s got to be changed.

Don’t try to pin this on the poor and the hungry, they get blamed enough all the time

The bread on the mount, was all gone by then, so they followed the next guy in line

Their children were crying and sickly, the soldiers had stolen their grain

You can’t live on words no matter how pretty, and parables don’t ease the pain.

I’m just a guy out to make a quick buck, they need crosses and I got the wood

Business is business and empires are built, on killing so business is good

“Make us three crosses, no need to deliver each customer carries their own”

The local economy has been in a slump, since trouble’s broke out in the slums.

We don’t approve, explain or excuse, we just do our jobs for the gold

We take ten percent off the top and don’t ask, where the other percentages go

I ain’t never met him in person, I’ve seen coins with his name and his face

But the image of Caesar that’s one you best please for, he’s the god of this human race.

But It’s not the fault of the soldier, he just follows and does what he told

He misses his wife and his family, but when called he got up to go

He would rather not beat down the prisoners, and whip them until they bleed dry

But he still wove a crown for the King of the Jews, as a joke to make us all smile.

Now Pharisees become such a dirty word, meaning someone who’s stuck in their ways

A hypocrite book thumping bigot, telling lies with their outward displays

But we were just trying to help all survive, til the Messiah could make the scene

If you fight with Romans for homeland security, then sometimes you got to get mean.

We just did our best to follow the law, keeping strict every jot and each tittle

But he got in our face and called us all snakes, so none of us voted acquittal

We did what we could to survive as we should, choosing the least of two evils

Turned the law inside out, to bury our doubts, but the ends justify the illegals

Don’t blame the lepers whose skin you won’t touch, we got healed and gratefully bowed

He took all our shame, and our bloody robes stained, and gave us new faces for now

But we didn’t know who he was on that road, with his body broke and betrayed

As he staggered down the Via Dolorosa, dragging his cross on the way.

We Zealots took to the streets with our knives, we would cut the throats of all traitors

Then we’d pull the kings down from their thrones, by the strength of our mighty Creator

We sang about Judah the Hammer and waited, for heaven to lend us a hand

But when no one appeared, as most of us feared, we voted Barabbas our savior.

The King had his hands full at home, with his concubines, mistress and wives

Keeping the peace was a full time job, needing money, torture and lies

It’s not his fault if his subjects below, would not render to those up on high

So once in awhile he killed just to show, how to keep all the others in line.

Don’t blame the devil, ole beelzebub, don’t lay it all on his neck

He played out the hand that was dealt him, we were warned to never look back

Maybe Job had a right to question the Lord, about why his whole life went to hell

But lucifer got the OK to whack him, it’s just business so don’t take it personal!

As slaves we’re good at taking commands, and not asking the who’s and the why’s

We talk about freedom and liberty, but our chains have become paradise

All that talk about justice and mercy and prisoners walking scott-free

But its been more than four thousand years, and were still waiting for one Jubilee

Lazarus asleep for days in his tomb, waiting for michael to blow

blinked at the light and then asked is it right to be woken before time to go?

But he wasn’t there when they beat him and jeered, and nailed him up on that cross

He got raised up once, now he sits back and waits, just like the rest of us.

When did it all go wrong, how did we lose our way

Where did the hope and the promises go, from the prophets of yesterday

We once were one family, that shared all our sorrows and pains

Now we are strangers alone in the world and nowhere to hide from the rain

Obliged y’all.