Deklica ki je verjela da je Jezus

from by Škrip Orkestra/ Screech Orchestra

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A girl who believed she was Jesus

Once upon a time there lived a little girl,
Who was quite quite determined she was the second coming of the Lord Jesus Christ:
Hi, I am the Lord Jesus Christ.
She'd wear a little beard and would go around in sandals,
Walking amongst the poor and the homeless,
Loving lepers, healing drug-addicts,
sSering drunks, washing beggars.
She wanted to save everyone,
Went about blessing everything.
And so she was never home,
As there is too much woe in this world.
6 years she had,
for 6 year she believed,
for 3 days she suffered,
for 6 years and 3 days she lived.
One night, the little girl slipped out yet again,
And for two horrifying days
Her parents could find neither hide nor hair of her,
Until they received a distraught call from a priest they didn't know, saying:
Hello, I am a distraught priest. You'd better come down to church. Your daughter's here giving us a lot of shit. It was cute at first but now it's really getting irritating. AMEN.
Her parents, relieved that she was alive and well,
Sped downtown to pick her up,
But in their haste they careened into an oncoming meat truck,
Were beheaded and died.
The little girl was informed of the news,
She cried a single tear, and not a single tear more.
She was shipped of by the state to live in a forest
With some abusive foster parents,
Who hadn't informed the state that they were abusive on the form;
Who hated religion, who hated Jesus,
Who hated anybody, in fact, who didn't hate anybody,
And who, as would follow, hated the little girl.
She'd receive a beating
When she insisted on attending church of a Sunday,
For arriving late home,
For sharing her food with the hungry,
For praying,
For cheering up the ugly kids,
For wandering about looking for the lepers,
For sobering the drunks,
For washing the beggars,
And yet she always forgave them all.
One day she met a blind man begging by the roadside,
She mixed a little of her spittle
In the dust and rubbed it over his eyes to revive them,
But he was angry and reported her to the police.
When her foster parents got her back from the police station they said to her:
So you want to be just like Jesus, do you?
And she said:
Finally you fucking get it!
And they stared at her for a while.
And then it started.
They embedded in her head a crown of thorns.
Then they beat her with a cat o'nine tail till she bled.
Do you still want to be like Jesus?
And, through her tears, she said, 'Yes, I do,' and forgave them.
So they made her carry a heavy wooden cross
Around the sitting room a hundred times,
Until her legs buckled and her shins broke:
I am the Lord Jesus Christ, she kept maintaining.
All right, we'll nail you to a cross, then
Knock, knock, knock ...
Nailed to the cross she bore it all,
While her parents watched television,
And when all the good programs were over,
They sharpened a spear and they said to her:
Do you still want to be like Jesus?
No, I don't want to be like Jesus ... I fucking am Jesus!
And her parents stuck the spear in her side,
And they left her there to die, and they went to bed.
She waited till morning to forgive them,
And that she did when they woke up.
The angry parents brought a coffin made of glass:
If you are Jesus, you'll survive,
if you are Jesus, you'll rise in three days' time.
And the little girl thought about it for a while,
And she smiled to herself and whispered:
Exactly. Exactly.
In a grave made of glass the girl awaits,
Inside, there is just enough room for her and three days' worth of air.
Three days later the blind man from the police station walks by,
And being quite quite blind sees and hears
No Jesus
No girl,
No Christ,
No nothing.


from Škrip Orkestra, released April 16, 2010



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