Ben Caplan - Plough the shit

^D#mThe world is an overflowing gutter It^B bubbles with the brine of shit and blood And^G#m those who keep their eyes upon the heavens Are the^B ones that end up faces down in the^A# mud ^E

^D#mIt's easy to speak of grand ambitions It^Bs easy to pretend your innocent Bu^G#mt lest you get distracted by the suffering of your sister Being^B practical and trying to pay th^A#7e rent ^E

^BHeaven has been promised to the^D#m righteous ^G#mHell's an overpopulated^F# pit ^C#Purgatory'^A#7s given to the^D#m dreamers^A# But the^B world belongs t^A#7o those who plow the^D#m shit

There's a^B special place in heaven for the whores There's ^G#ma throne reserved for those with good ideas Stolen^B by the demagogues who wante^A#7d more

Th^D#me flowers and the laces in the market Are all^B purchased by the peddlers of the flesh Bu^G#mt those who bring relief and carnal pleasure Sometimes^B serve the needs of mankind^A#7 for the best

Cast^B off the limitations of the^D#m righteous There^G#m are good deeds only devils can co^F#mmit Let us^C# dance between th^A#7e teardrops and th^D#me angels^A# For the^B world belongs t^A#7o those who plow the^D#m shit

^BAt last the supreme maker decreed tha^G#mt this creature To whom he could give nothing wholly his own^B

In the particular endowment^A#7 of every other creature^D#m Taking man therefore this ^D#mCreature of indeterminate image He^B set him in the middle of the world And thus spoke to him^G#m We have given you, oh^B Adam No visage proper^A#7 to yourself No endowment properly yo^D#mur own

Whatever price, whatever form, whatever^B gifts you may with Premeditation select These same may yo^G#mu have and possess Through your own judgement and decision^B We have made you ^A#7a creature neither of heaven ^D#mNor of Earth!

N^D#mor immortal! I^Bn order that you may As the free and proud shaper of your own being^G#m

I^Bt will be in your p^A#mower To descend to the lower^D#m brutish forms of life You will be able^B through your own judgement and decision To rise a^G#mgain to the superior orders Of ^Blife is div^A#7ine!

Th^D#me dead become the emperors of memory The^B saints have all been eaten by the worms Th^G#me living will write a twisted future And^B the sinners all have practical con^A#7cerns

The^D#m sentinels with rifles on the border Of^B the pretenses of charity are swept Oh^G#m but let's not talk of slipping into nightmares For the^B day is run by those who haven'^A#7t slept

So^B throw away the vestments of th^D#me righteous Make^B sure the body almost lovel^D#my fits The^C# souls are take^A#7n flight now from th^D#me birdhouse^A# And the^B world belongs t^A#7o those who plow th^D#me shit