Rasputin Lives
4/14/2003
by Lorne Clarke copyright 2003
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In a rain shrouded grove on the 'Tomac River
There's a secret meeting of the indian givers
Incantations mid the swirling smoke
Burning tires and lengths of rope

From 14th Street where the child-hookers huddle
Mid the burnt out cars and urban rubble
It's only three blocks to the palace gates
Where they're planning the end of the human race

Rasputin lives
Rasputin lives

In the quiet of a room without any corners
A bewildered child receives his orders
Wishing his daddy was there to help
But he's riding with the devil and we're headed for hell

The Cheney Beast sits there filing his teeth
He offers the Boy-King something to eat
While blow flies buzz on the corpses outside
He sells salvation and the Boy-King buys

Rasputin lives
Rasputin lives

The blood of the beast is starting to boil
Its heart is thirsty - it craves more oil
The voice it uses is the voice of Christ
Commanding us all to sacrifice

So now families stand by the weeping graves
While the criminal thugs say we must be brave
And the Boy-King pines for Heaven's Gate
Though he never will know that it's way too late

Rasputin lives
Rasputin lives
 

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