back in black

im back as a usual suspect to these fucked parts
the band leader and the fatefully drowsy assistant
hopping from one selected story
through time to the next.

the symphony members are all wistfully resting
inching to the moment i awaken their cold craniums
and refill their empty spaces with harmonies to live for
melodies to make you insecure.

the crescendo rush, the proselytizing aria
packaged and tortured by the conductor
who happens to be high on praise
and dead set on settling the score.

all of this before the theatre even dawns the lights,
come for the show, stay for the sacrifice
the unmistakeable sound of applause
trying it's best to convince you a cloud burst overhead
and it's time to seek providence.