From the chasm of night's sleep
they came to me,
a procession of old men
bearded and robed,
dressed in white,
holding fifty candles high,
silently barefoot, passing by
in clouds of otherworldly perfume.
And next to me appeared
ten million sleeping souls,
all the world whispering:
"Our Father who art in heaven,
give us this day,
more and more and more and more and more."
And the Lord appeared in white light
and rainbows, asking:
"Tell me, child.
All this pain,
I can make it go away.
There is a cure,
just watch.
I can wave my hand and you'll hurt no more.
But there's a catch -
you all must then be poor."
"Oh no!" they cried.
"Is there no other way?
Surely you know we love our
diamonds and amnesia."
The Lord sighed and said,
"Well, I tried."
All the world again cried:
"Dear God above, if you truly love,
give us this day our daily
anaesthesia."