3653. CARLOS, I HAVE THE WILD JONES

CARLOS, I HAVE

THE WILD JONES

(eerie)

The passage I liked the best was the one sung by the

gay priest; the one chasing the boys afterward down

that holy primrose path. That shit makes me sick, and

I once was there. You can puke-proof the attic stairway,

but never the private billiard room with the two beds and

a lamp where the brothers and priests used to send

those selected young boys. Don't tell me. I know.

-

I was there. The only extent of that crap religion

is the extent to which it rots the brain. Every one of

those stupid dogma systems  -  Jew, Catholic, and all

the rest  -  they amount already to buckets of sin

before the party gets started. Oh you don't know

the shape I'm in.

-

Before I was a killer, I was a calm, young boy.

I stayed home when other kids went out to play.

I stayed home, just thinking of you.