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Strapped to the Poetry Chair



A SONG FOR MATTHEW SHEPARD

by Tim Murphy



(1) This body's not for burning.
Stomachs and worlds rapidly turning.
Sickly sentiment may fly, but excuse me! Didn't someone die?
Oh, that's right - he wasn't human.

(2) What were you so afraid of?
An ironic and misplaced love?
Yeah, he was such a frightening threat you had to burn him - bind him - beat him to death.
I hope one day you scare yourself.

BRIDGE: I didn't start the fire, baby, but I'm gonna put it out.
I didn't start the fire - it was ignited by your brimstone shout
and your sharpened tongue and your heart of stone.
You are all such cowards - you want us all to die alone.
You can try for heaven, but you're not walking that blessed town.
You'll meet Miss Thing Saint Peter, and he'll tell you: 'Going down!'

(3) It's a match made in Hades
when religion mates with rabies.
The Reverend Phelps and all his kin are gonna make the world safe for us again -
unless, of course, we're a 'them'.

(4) Repeat (1), except with 'and whether you like it or not, he was human' as the final line

11 to 12, 1998

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