Cry out for the king To bring salvation from the plague Cry out for the king To bring the cleansing flame And build the new Jerusalem The king is the cause of the plague We capsize, overwhelmed By cascading oedipal revelations Jocasta's feet have finally left the ground Fissures running all the way down Our sacred visions of Apocalypse Epic comic-book escape fantasies We are conveniently unworthy Lull our budding concerns to sleep And every doomsday tragedy Ends with a place in eternity The Delphic oracle grows fat On self-fulfilling prophecies And the Ark of the Covenant Holds a pair of golden brooches