They first met at the hospital, she was checking out for good Her body patched but past repair, and there her angel stood She was feeling quite confused now that her d**h was close at hand She had to face eternity, so why not this mumbling man? Who bought himself a wedding suit at a local warrant sale It belonged to some old Turkish man who'd owed and gone to jail He would coax her mind with talk of love to make her body kind Because people hate the truth, you know; they need their pack of lies Growing tired of being foreign, being spat on and shortchanged He demanded that she leave with him for the land from whence he came They were herded on like cattle to a ferry at high tide This unkempt, aging orphan and his helpless, dying bride But he left her at the other shore crying on the deck She slumped against the rail as he had struck to free his neck The customs shed was empty as he made his way inside There were no chimpanzees in uniform to hear his pack of lies Now she's ascending into heaven with contentment on her face and Holy God is there to greet and batter her into her place Ah, but meanwhile back on Earth, it seems the prodigal's returned and they're making him the chieftain and they've come to him to learn How the neighbours in the rich land better steal and k** and lie When asked who culls the weaklings there he just shrugs and says, "Not I! Though surrounded by diseases, I stood tall and kept my health I could have been important if I'd been somebody else" The moral of this story is: This land's a victim-farm Don't you ever feed a beggar here, he'll eat your f**ing arm and don't blaspheme the strong ones if you want to stay alive Now smile and give them thanks when they say, "Here's a pack of lies!"