So this has been.my favorite song of OTEP's since it came out in 2004, and I always thought it was a song about a child's narrative of suffering in an abusive Christian home. But now that I am revisiting the lyrics, I am seeing something totally new.
This song could be gospel of John but from the perspective of Jesus.
Jesus was NOT having a good time up to and during the crucifixion. Everyone in the known world at the time looked to him with fear, admiration or disgust and he was constantly being asked questions. He spoke in "verses, prophesies and curses". He had made an enemy of the state, and believed the world was increasingly wicked and fallen from grace, or that he was in the "mouth of madness".
The spine of atlas is the structure that allows the titan to hold the world up. Jesus challenged the state and in doing so became a celebrated resistance figure. It also made him public enemy #1.
All of this happened simply because he was doing his thing, not because of any agenda he had or strategy.
And then he gets scourged (storm of thorns)
There are some plot holes here but I think it's an interesting interpretation.
You can buy her, you can buy her
This one's here, this one's here
This one's here, and this one's here
Everything's for sale
For sale?
Dumb cunt's same dumb questions
Virgins?
Listen, all virgins are liars honey
And I don't know what I'm scared of or what I even enjoy
Dulling, get money, but nothing turns out like you want it to
And in these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For £200 anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so chop off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want
I eat and I dress and I wash and I still can say thank you
Puking, shaking, sinking I still stand for old ladies
Can't shout, can't scream, hurt myself to get pain out
I 'T' them, 24/7, all year long
Purgatory's circle, drowning here, someone will always say yes
Funny place for the social, for the insects to start caring
Just an ambulance at the bottom of a cliff
In these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For 200 pounds anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so chop off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want, if you want
I eat and I dress and I wash and I can still say thank you
Puking, shaking, sinking I still stand for old ladies
Can't shout, can't scream, I hurt myself to get pain out
Power produces desire, the weak have none
There's no lust in this coma even for a fifty
Solitude, solitude, the 11th commandment
The only certain thing that is left about me
There's no part of my body that has not been used
Pity or pain, to show displeasure's shame
Everyone I've loved or hated always seems to leave
And in these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For 200 pounds anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so chop off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want, if you want
Power produces desire, the weak have none
There's no lust in this coma even for a fifty
Solitude, solitude, the 11th commandment
Don't hurt, just obey, lie down, do as they say
May as well be heaven this hell, smells the same
These sunless afternoons I can't find myself
This one's here, this one's here
This one's here, and this one's here
Everything's for sale
For sale?
Dumb cunt's same dumb questions
Virgins?
Listen, all virgins are liars honey
And I don't know what I'm scared of or what I even enjoy
Dulling, get money, but nothing turns out like you want it to
And in these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For £200 anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so chop off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want
I eat and I dress and I wash and I still can say thank you
Puking, shaking, sinking I still stand for old ladies
Can't shout, can't scream, hurt myself to get pain out
I 'T' them, 24/7, all year long
Purgatory's circle, drowning here, someone will always say yes
Funny place for the social, for the insects to start caring
Just an ambulance at the bottom of a cliff
In these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For 200 pounds anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so chop off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want, if you want
I eat and I dress and I wash and I can still say thank you
Puking, shaking, sinking I still stand for old ladies
Can't shout, can't scream, I hurt myself to get pain out
Power produces desire, the weak have none
There's no lust in this coma even for a fifty
Solitude, solitude, the 11th commandment
The only certain thing that is left about me
There's no part of my body that has not been used
Pity or pain, to show displeasure's shame
Everyone I've loved or hated always seems to leave
And in these plagued streets of pity you can buy anything
For 200 pounds anyone can conceive a God on video
He's a boy, you want a girl so chop off his cock
Tie his hair in bunches, fuck him, call him Rita if you want, if you want
Power produces desire, the weak have none
There's no lust in this coma even for a fifty
Solitude, solitude, the 11th commandment
Don't hurt, just obey, lie down, do as they say
May as well be heaven this hell, smells the same
These sunless afternoons I can't find myself
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Just glancing over these lyrics I can tell Richey wrote them. 'Can't shout, can't scream, hurt myself to get pain out' sounds rather too autobiographical on his part.