The Mercy Seat

It began when they come took me from my home And put me in Dead Row, Of which I am nearly wholly innocent, you know. And I'll say it again I... am... not... afraid... to... die.

I began to warm and chill to objects and their fields, a ragged cup, a twisted mop. The face of Jesus in my soup. Those sinister dinner meals. The meal trolley's wicked wheels. A hooked bone rising from my food. All things either good or ungood.

And the mercy seat is waiting. And I think my head is burning. And in a way I'm yearning to be done with all this measuring of truth. An eye for an eye. A tooth for a tooth. And anyway I told the truth. And I'm not afraid to die.

Interpret signs and catalogue. A blackened tooth, a scarlet fog. The walls are bad. Black. Bottom kind. They are sick breath at my hind. They are sick breath at my hind. They are sick breath at my hind. They are sick breath gathering at my hind.

I hear stories from the chamber. How Christ was born into a manger and like some ragged stranger died upon the cross. And might I say it seems so fitting in it's way. He was a carpenter by trade or at least that's what I'm told.

Like my good hand I tatooed E.V.I.L. across it's brother's fist. That filthy five! They did nothing to challenge or resist.

In Heaven His throne is made of gold. The ark of his Testament is stowed. A throne from which I'm told all history does unfold. Down here it's made of wood and wire and my body is on fire. And God is never far away.

Into the mercy seat I climb. My head is shaved, my head is wired. And like a moth that tries to enter the bright eye. I go shuffling out of life just to hide in death awhile and anyway I never lied.

My kill-hand is called E.V.I.L. wears a wedding band that's G.O.O.D. `Tis a long-suffering shackle collaring all that rebel blood.

And the mercy seat is waiting. And I think my head is burning. And in a way I'm yearning to be done with all this measuring of truth. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. And anyway I told the truth. And I'm not afraid to die.

And the mercy seat is burning. And I think my head is glowing. And in a way I'm hoping to be done with all this weighing up of truth. An eye for an eye and a tooth for a tooth. And I've got nothing left to lose. And I'm not afraid to die.

Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds - The Mercy Seat