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End Of Grace

from Desolation Sound by Luke Maynard

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lyrics

10. End of Grace

You told us you were leaving.
I never could believe:
There’s no one left so decent
As to give us time to grieve,
But there’s nowhere left for poets
On the hot side of the Pearly Gates.
It was a civil and a proper hour
To make an end of grace.

The magic’s in the music
And the relic’s in the word;
I hope you will forgive me
When I find it all absurd
How we fight for your fedora,
Casting lots for your last shoelace—
It’s in our nature, I suppose,
This tattered, shabby end of grace.

I thought we were above it;
I thought that we could learn,
But we’re counting up their silver
While the blazing crosses burn.
It’s the night of the Thorns,
It’s the hour of the upturned face,
Half a minute to midnight
And the pyrotechnic end of grace.

There ain’t no more detention
In the classrooms after school:
You can’t have contravention
Once you overrule the rules,
And they’re teaching all the man-cubs
To pickpocket second base:
In the rocket’s red glare,
You just grab ’em by the end of grace.

It’s standing in the closet.
It’s drinking every night.
It can’t abide the darkness
But it doesn’t know the light
Because they stole its sacred pronoun—
Maybe pawned it for a laugh someplace—
Now it’s one small step for an end—
Of grace.

First they break your leg.
Then they break the crutch.
We’re just delicate angels.
Doesn’t take very much.
They Krazy Glue™ your heart pills shut
Just to watch your face.
It takes such tiny little things
To make an end of grace.

Today they stand united
On a mountaintop of skulls—
The old men for their terror,
The young ones “for the lulz.”
They adopt a daughter standard
And they’re day-trading future dates,
Where with such little things
They sport to make an end of grace.

I dreamed I was a meteor
A thousand miles wide.
My body hit the lithosphere
And everybody died.
Pheidippides himself
Was never happier to end a race.
It made for good T.V.
And a strangely fitting end of grace.

I wish I was the Darkness.
I wish I never woke.
I wish I could forget
About the thousand times you spoke.
But the weeds are spawning heroes
Who are called to these drowning days.
So I stand with broken heart and open arms,
I stand with open heart and broken arms,
I stand with broken heart and open arms, here,
At the end of grace.

credits

from Desolation Sound, released June 30, 2018
All vocals & instruments by Luke Maynard
Written by Luke Maynard

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Luke Maynard Toronto, Ontario

Singer-songwriter, multi-instrumentalist, old-school Canadian acoustic troubaour, and all-purpose sonic roustabout.

Loitering around the upper frets since 1996.

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