Cursive

And so it's begun
This is year one
The birth of a child in the form of a man
Wrapped in towel
Passed out on the floor
These drunken hours -- graces deflowered
Cast down by an angel
She used to kiss his weeping eyes
Depressed in her bosom
Tears roll off her nipple
Sweet baby, don't cry...
Your tears are only alibis
To prove you still feel --
You only feel sorry for yourself
Well, get on that cross
That's all you're good for...
And thusly it ends
Depression seeps in on a lonely messiah
Now he drinks with the lepers
Losing a limb, his better half