Blood In Our Guts - Lyrics - Ballydowse
Ballydowse was a celtic punk rock band from Chicago, Illinois with a rare mix of anarchist and religious ideas infused into their music. Many of the group's members were from the Jesus People USA commune. In addition to the group's Mekons Pogues-style Celtic punk influences, the group also draws from world musics such as klezmer and Tibetan throat singing. Ballydowse released two albums both engineered by Steve Albini. The debut was entitled The Land, the Bread, and the People and was a home place for many who found common cause with certain elements of Christianity while rejecting the American right wing bias so prominent in the church at the time. Their second album Fertile Crescent continued this trajectory with a growing Eastern European flavor. The group's political activism over the economic sanctions on Iraq in the 2000s, prison reform, death penalty and the short-comings of capitalism was unique among Christian bands of the time. The group disbanded in 2003.
Tip: Highlight text to annotate itX
(Chorus)
Some days you tread the grass tipping the toe in awe.
Some days you draw the sword, some nights you spit at the stars.
We serve a God of grief and pleasure. We swim in passion and tears.
Fasting fills our minutes but feasting fills our years.
We're no sons of prohibition, no daughters of frozen beds.
Pan and the nymph's weak shadows of the fires joined and wed.
Seems you misunderstand me, not ice but blood in our guts.
We're sober ‘cause we're waiting for our Lord to drink with us.
Been told we're rules and repression, weak in minds and taste,
But only the one who has mastered desire ever has ridden its strength.
I will not sit your silly perch, I got both wings on me.
Judging from your paintin' of us I don't think you can see.
A joy that outdances the pagans. A taste for moon and sun.
Great board of wine and laughter when the watch of the night is done.
Sing of some pale Galilean, greying the world with his breath.
This wrath is not my master; in fact we've never met.
