at our convenience

for what we know we have no quarrel
with those who want us to be moral
far harder things we'll do or say
with those who've led us on our way
beyond the boundaries of space and time
we wonder what has reached its prime
and shown all on the mountain side
who told the truth and which fool lied

the pardon that we've not been given
was by the power of mercy driven
to do our worst desire what will
would give us each the right to kill
our enemies but if not for them
no leaves or flowers would mark the stem
not by the help of friends and kin
by opposites is the only mode to win

before we put on all the fighting gear
we wondered what we'd have to hear
the story of the suffering child
designed to drive all humans wild
the trick's to find the words that catch
fire in the head like old brown thatch
for when we make the long-term plan
our hope's in the stupidity of girl and man

revised the message won't be sent
that grants us the obligation to present
not what we want but what we have to give
those things will only matter if we life
past this bright hour and if we have the gold
that keeps the dreadful beasts from getting old
that's not what we want for we have no chance
the whole thing's been decided in advance