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.
Sing, muse, of the passion of the pistol
Sing, muse, of the warning by the whistle
On a night so dark in the waning
A dawn obscured by slate sky raining
Five and twenty burglars by the reservoir
A teenage lookout on the signal tower
The mogul's daughter in hog-tie
The mogul fingers the wrong guy, all lies
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, perfect crime
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect crime
It was the perfect crime
The bagman's quaking at the fingers
The hand-off glance a little lingers
A well-dressed man in the crosshairs
A shot rings out from somewhere upstairs
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect crime
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect crime
It was the perfect crime
It was like a ticker-tape parade
When the plastique on the safe was blown away
And we all gaze from eye to eye
As we mouth our silent goodbyes
The valley's sleeping like a bastard
It stinks of slumber and disaster
Two words are spoken with tap wire
The agent's ploy finds a surefire backfire
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect crime
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect crime
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect crime
Sing, muse, of the warning by the whistle
On a night so dark in the waning
A dawn obscured by slate sky raining
Five and twenty burglars by the reservoir
A teenage lookout on the signal tower
The mogul's daughter in hog-tie
The mogul fingers the wrong guy, all lies
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, perfect crime
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect crime
It was the perfect crime
The bagman's quaking at the fingers
The hand-off glance a little lingers
A well-dressed man in the crosshairs
A shot rings out from somewhere upstairs
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect crime
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect crime
It was the perfect crime
It was like a ticker-tape parade
When the plastique on the safe was blown away
And we all gaze from eye to eye
As we mouth our silent goodbyes
The valley's sleeping like a bastard
It stinks of slumber and disaster
Two words are spoken with tap wire
The agent's ploy finds a surefire backfire
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect crime
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect crime
It was a perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect, the perfect
The perfect, the perfect crime
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Easily my least favorite Decembs song... Just really repetitive and lacking in all of the things I like about them.