746: 3 CHRISTIAN PUNK POEMS BY EAGLE SPITS

It was great to meet Eagle Spits and his partner Rachel again at the Faith and Resistance conference in London last weekend. (See post no. 745 for a taste of the subversive fare that was served up there.) It was a pity the organisers didn’t ask Eagle to sing, instead of trying to get us to chant some latin rubbish without even putting the words up or providing a translation. I took the opportunity to get Eagle’s non-copyright lyrics off him, so that more people can sample his unique style. He has a CD too, and performs in pubs around Nottingham, and even as far away as London, to raise funds for homeless kids. Imagine a large guy in leather and pins with an orange Mohican haircut , who was this week ordained into the Methodist ministry.  I plan to copy out over 50 of his brilliant rants, including his latest ones, over the next few months.

Cheers, Gary!

Booted

All booted and suited
And dressed up neat
But inside you know
You ain’t so sweet
With your peacock Mohican
You say you don’t care
But you spent 3 hours
Just spiking your hair
Studded jackets and bondage
Strides
Looking cool
But what’s inside
You shout right in my ear
About the way that you feel
Well is your philosophy
Your T shirt
Or are you for real
We reminisce
About smoking menthols
Just like Mick Jones
Bringing down the government
Kicking the Queen off the throne
Did things turn out
Just the way we planned
Or did we sell out
To the man
Well my hair it is grey now
I have no green dye
Was all our anarcho posturing
Just pie in the sky?

 

Blood on your shoes

You went on the attack
Put a knife in my  back
So do not complain
That I bled on your  shoes
Don’t preach condemnation
And call it good news
Don’t give me a rule book
And then call it grace
It gives me no pleasure
When you punch my face
Don’t give me religion
When I ask for Christ
If love’s unconditional
I don’t have to be nice.

 

Brood of Viper

This is not a church
It’s a brood of vipers
If you’re gonna slip and fall
Beware of the snipers
If you see your friend fall
Don’t go on the attack
Don’t call him your brother
Then stab him in the back
Of course there’s too much talk
About the poor in this place
But most of it comes from Jesus
How could he have the face
Some poor guy’s out there knocking
But you won’t let him in~
Your prosperity doctrine
I hope the camel’s thin.

Source:
“Slap bang in the middle of a contradiction” Eagle Spits and John Dean (2012)

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