I Gave You Milk, Not Solid Food, For You Were Not Ready For It Yet
Someday your time will come
But until it does you will continue
as a bumbling unorthodox heretical stooge
For you a disgusting stool pigeon has dropped unforeseen gifts
from the magic kingdom in the sky
There is no question that he has the greatest respect
Because without it you would be surrounded, forced to live life as a dirty bird
But the master on high knows that your understanding is low
Your brain is but that of a pea
But he has hope, he has seen other creatures evolve
and gradually they have been able to walk upright on two feet
But for the moment you must grovel on your war-torn silver belly
with your scoliotic back facing the sun, and the opening in your pretty buttocks uncovered lovely and prone
For it is from within this position that he has the audacity to release his little presents
to you
And whether you understand he has your best interests at heart,
a package has been sent with a sling shot, a bundle of care, not only for your nourishment but for the edification of the masses, for the measly people who are unable to lean back and release their escrow
But one day you will learn the power of his mercy and the special plan he has for you
You will be able to pull up your pants and fasten them with a belt, sit at the table and receive your feeding in your mouth
Solid food will become a glorious blessing of the past, and on the sabbath you could even be offered mashed potatoes and gravy, exotic poultry and sirloin steak
There is no doubt that this would be good for you
but thank god you were born to know nothing of the difference, just a humble lummox who will offer his thanks whenever a flying projectile comes through the black and blue
They say that there is a degree of happiness in folly and with the tree of knowledge there is no fruit
So be content with what flies through the air, think of honeybees, tangerines, bingbats and chrome
In the future we might not be able to do away with any food at all
With no desire, hunger or thirst there would be a very small margin for error
In fact we might be able to do away with sin altogether
Oh what a miraculous place the world would turn-out to be
In a foggy gray mist slinking along in a silly boat waiting for a spirit to return
But until it does you will continue
as a bumbling unorthodox heretical stooge
For you a disgusting stool pigeon has dropped unforeseen gifts
from the magic kingdom in the sky
There is no question that he has the greatest respect
Because without it you would be surrounded, forced to live life as a dirty bird
But the master on high knows that your understanding is low
Your brain is but that of a pea
But he has hope, he has seen other creatures evolve
and gradually they have been able to walk upright on two feet
But for the moment you must grovel on your war-torn silver belly
with your scoliotic back facing the sun, and the opening in your pretty buttocks uncovered lovely and prone
For it is from within this position that he has the audacity to release his little presents
to you
And whether you understand he has your best interests at heart,
a package has been sent with a sling shot, a bundle of care, not only for your nourishment but for the edification of the masses, for the measly people who are unable to lean back and release their escrow
But one day you will learn the power of his mercy and the special plan he has for you
You will be able to pull up your pants and fasten them with a belt, sit at the table and receive your feeding in your mouth
Solid food will become a glorious blessing of the past, and on the sabbath you could even be offered mashed potatoes and gravy, exotic poultry and sirloin steak
There is no doubt that this would be good for you
but thank god you were born to know nothing of the difference, just a humble lummox who will offer his thanks whenever a flying projectile comes through the black and blue
They say that there is a degree of happiness in folly and with the tree of knowledge there is no fruit
So be content with what flies through the air, think of honeybees, tangerines, bingbats and chrome
In the future we might not be able to do away with any food at all
With no desire, hunger or thirst there would be a very small margin for error
In fact we might be able to do away with sin altogether
Oh what a miraculous place the world would turn-out to be
In a foggy gray mist slinking along in a silly boat waiting for a spirit to return
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