Golgotha of the Great Lakes

[Intro: Dissonant feedback fades into a heavy, repetitive bass line.] [A metallic, rhythmic clatter starts.] [Loud, noisy electric guitar kicks in.] ... [Verse 1: Bass-driven. Vocals are loud, prophetic, and conspiratorial.] He wasn’t born in a manger, but a pole barn in Zeeland! Between a rusted-out John Deere and a stack of cedar peeling! The North Star was the glow of the Amway Grand Plaza! While the magi brought him Vernors and a Domino's pizza. No room at the Holiday Inn, just a "Vacancy" sign that flickered like a strobe! He was wrapped in a Carhartt jacket, his first earthly robe. And the angels were just seagulls screaming over the Holland Pier Announcing the arrival of the boy who’d be the king of here. [Verse 2: Drums enter—a thudding, floor-tom heavy beat. Piano clatters aggressively.] By twelve he was healing the salt-rot on the wheel wells of Fords! Turning lead-heavy tap water into something the city affords! He didn’t walk on the water, he walked on the ice Across the Big Mac bridge because he couldn't pay the price Of the toll or the taxes or the tithes they demand! He just showed 'em where he lived on the callous of his hand! [Vocals become more strained] The stigmata was a splinter from a furniture floor From a shift he pulled at Steelcase just to keep his foot in the door! [Refrain: Full band swell. The guitar plays a droning, high-pitched note.] And we say: Blessed are the salt-stained; they shall inherit the rust! (inherit the rust) Blessed are the ones who pray while the transmission turns to dust! He’s a Michigander Savior in a landscape of gray! And he’s got nothing to say to the people who pray for him to go away! [Verse 3: Tempo picks up. The rhythm becomes jagged and breathless.] He took the I-196 like a cross on his shoulder The lake effect wind making his parables colder. He told the boardrooms in Grandville to sell what they own But they were busy zoning out the people who were truly alone. He stood in the Meijer checkout with a handful of change And they looked at his sandals like he was deranged and strange. The "He Is Risen" bumper stickers cut him off in the sleet! While he was looking for a miracle on a Kalamazoo street! [Instrumental Break: Chaotic, soaring guitar solo—angular and discordant. The piano plays heavy chords in the low end. It feels like a white-out blizzard.] [Verse 4: Music drops out, leaving only the piano clatter and faint, hissing feedback.] They didn't use nails, they used a pneumatic nail gun! Under the shadow of a billboard for a personal injury son! He cried out "I thirst!" and they gave him a sip of the lake! A chemical cocktail for the holy man’s sake! The sky didn’t turn black, it just stayed Michigan gray! The kind of color that makes you forget the time of the day. And he buried his heart in the sand of a Saugatuck dune Waiting for a spring that’s never coming soon. [Bridge: Building intensity. The bass becomes a distorted wall of sound.] It’s a theology of the pothole! (Pothole!) It’s a liturgy of the line! (The line!) It’s a savior who knows the smell of the foundry And the weight of the debt and the limits of the boundary! It’s a savior who knows the smell of the foundry And the weight of the debt and the limits of the boundary! [Refrain: Maximum volume. Everything is crashing together.] And we say: Blessed are the salt-stained; they shall inherit the rust! (They shall inherit the rust!) Blessed are the ones who pray while the transmission turns to dust! He’s a Michigander Savior in a landscape of gray! And he’s got nothing to say to the people who pray for him to go away! (He’s got nothing to say!) [Outro: Heavy, funeral-dirge pace. Each beat is massive.] He held up his hand. He showed us the spot. It wasn't a map. It was a bloodstain on a parking lot! Pure Michigan! (Pure Michigan) Pure Salvation! For me and mine! Pure Michigan!