Like a Prayer

O Preacher O Cardinal

What hast thou done?

You, who are like my haggard self;

I’m bleeding again

From ancient wounds;

I’m bleeding for you

For your funny muddled guilt.

My mask of thorns cuts my face

Blinding me

My side wounds gasp for air

I begin at my beginning

I’m trying to die on this cross:

And for you…. only you.

Help drive the nail, and this spear into my flesh

Follow me if you like, suffer and make it pleasure

Turn this outrage into a dream

Vent your spleen, rejoice in my screams

And end your insulting mockery.

 

O Lawyer O Managing Director

By the swearing of your vanity

By fulfilling your next negotiated contract

I would not rise again

Listen to this failing me: you might

Think no more of me, Jesus the Apparition.

In many a heart I lived and died

But my love is turned to rust

Shattered willy-nilly into oblivion

Let me struggle with history

Let me do so in the manner of one usurped

Take my place, better your style

Rid for me the world of its guilt

And rewrite for me

The names of saints and heretics

Now that I am an object

Of true commercial and excess.

 

O Rock Star O Movie Producer

I’ll pray for all your lovers

Those fans and sinners

Who yearn for your touch

Your holiness reveres me as your star

Since the moment a mischievous spirit

Kissed the virgin womb of my mother.

Strange are these acts of love

That turns my legend into vanity

That relegates my death into sorcery

I am the supreme guilty one

I was foolish, naïve and gay

And not of a world smitten with attention

Nothing is left of my sacrificial act

I have nothing to show for it

Forgive me; forgive someone

I know not what I have done.