Offload Me, Lord



Offload Me, Lord


Lord, that day I came home

All I wanted was an ice cream and an iPhone

That’s all I wanted but you said no

You said you had to test me, so…


Lord, I ran to the car when it crashed

I saw the steel and how it was mashed

I called the cops, first thing in fact

Proper thing to do when someone’s head is cracked

But then I got bored and wasn’t sure what to do

So I took some pics with my Blackberry Blue

Yes, I felt a small twinge

But others were doing the same thing

When I put the shots out for bid

I made three hundred fifty quid


Lord, is your name really Jack?

Are you a fella that wears a hat?

I’ve heard that you live on Mars

And have a special hatred for cars

But why do you have to be so mean

As to stick a steering wheel through that woman’s spleen?

I touched her wrinkled cheek

As the fire began to creep

Along the metal and the leather

Of that tired old Ford Eddie Vedder

She was still alive

And asked me to give her five

But I missed and hit her in the head

And not long after, she was…


So Lord…

Are you an occidental Christian

Sent here on a proper godly mission?

Or are you a Muslim Mohammad hippie

That hates me because I’m trippy?

Maybe you’re a sandwich store Buddha

That gets off on mouldy gouda?

Or a slippery Guru Nanak naked in the shower

Pruning his hat-on penis tower?

Perhaps you are a ventriloquist volatile vegetarian

A sordid apathetic lobotomized agrarian?

Or are you honestly an alien spaceman being

That looks a bit like the fag I’m seeing?

Because if you are these things, I’m confused

I’m feeling a little lonely and abused

Because you didn’t have to kill that lady

The one that had a skull full of leaking gravy

And you didn’t have to make it such an easy job

For me to make money off a bloody bod


Lord, I found out later

That her name was Mabel

I met a boy and girl

Who said she lived in a monster world

I told them to go to bloody bed

Shooed them off with pictures of her mashed up head

But Lord, Ganesh and a Mormon priest

Are dating on the edge of a bird’s beak

While Saul of Tarsus and some Branch Davidian

Are smoking themselves into oblivion

And hey, those angels up on high

Well, they’re fucking in a pig sty

So Lord tell me, how do I get so sufficiently holy

That it’s fine to buy and screw a pony?

It’s not like I’m into sex with animals

Or that I’m tempted by the idea of cannibals

But if fair is foul and foul is fair

I’d rather hover through the dingiest air

Where guts are splayed over broken glass

And I get horny seeing a car seat poking through an old woman’s ass


Lord, my only Lord and my savior still

I want to thank you for a profitable kill

But I also have to remind you, it seems

That all I wanted

All I fucking wanted

Lord, I wanted only

A goddam ice cream.





Dream hard, rage hard.

32 thoughts on “Offload Me, Lord

    1. I was obviously in a sugar low at the time. Fortunately, the ice cream eventually appeared, but I will take you up on your offer of another cone. Ice cream is always good.

  1. wow, we all ask “why?” I think the Bad, are the actual blessings. They teach us, and hopefully we grow…not fat with ice cream…lol…but inside. once again, your writing moves me…thanks Trent, even in rage, you make me stop and think. 🙂

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