THE BALLAD OF CHAOS The devil wears his Sunday best, God gets drunk on gin. There's a storm beneath the satin and a wilderness within. Black candles, white horses, silver teeth and rusted gold. Some sins are born in heaven, some salvation's bought and sold. Kings without their kingdoms, saints without their shame. Blackbirds counting silver in the widow's windowpane. Thunder in the bedroom, lightning in the hall. Every angel has a shadow, every shadow wants it all. Midnight on the altar, honey on the knife. A little death between the sheets, a little resurrection in the night. Some men pray for mercy, some men beg for rain. Some go looking for salvation with their fingers in the flame. Oh, Chaos, sweet Chaos, lay your wicked kingdom down. Red silk on the table, black roots beneath the ground. Turn my water into whiskey, turn my virtue into vice. If the devil wants a witness, tell him I've been baptized twice. Oh, Chaos, beautiful sin, every time I find the door, you come crawling from within. Iron in the morning, blood beneath the clay. Crooked roads to nowhere where the innocent don't stay. Built a highway out of heartache, laid the blacktop over scars. There's a little bit of heaven in the wreckage of the stars. Fortune wears a garter, Lady Luck wears black. Love is just a loaded chamber with a finger on the back. Heaven's got a side door, hell's got velvet ropes. Every saint has dirty secrets, every sinner sells you hope. Some knees bend for Jesus, some bend for something else. Some call it divine intervention when they cannot help themselves. Oh, Chaos, sweet Chaos, lay your wicked kingdom down. Red silk on the table, black roots beneath the ground. Turn my water into whiskey, turn my virtue into vice. If the devil wants a witness, tell him I've been baptized twice. Oh, Chaos, beautiful sin, every time I find the door, you come crawling from within. A ledger full of lovers, a clock without a face. A thousand little endings wearing perfume and lace. The moon forgets its mother, the sun misplaces gold. The young grow tired of living, the old grow scared of growing old. Ashes turn to roses, roses turn to rust. Every sacred thing gets hungry, every golden thing gets dust. And beneath the velvet heavens, where the blackened rivers run, every ending holds a matchstick, every shadow holds the sun. I've danced with Lady Fortune, I've slept with Lady Luck. I've made a bed of broken things and called the wreckage love. The world beneath me, the world on top. The art of falling, the fear of stopping. A little hell in paradise. A little heaven in the rot. The sweetest things are poison when you want them quite enough. Oh, Chaos, sweet Chaos, let the heavens lose their ground. Let the angels come undone, let the dead come dancing round. Turn my ashes into roses, turn my scars to paradise. If the devil wants another dance, tell him he can roll the dice. Oh, Chaos, beautiful sin, I don't have to win the war to let the morning in. The devil wears his Sunday best. God gets drunk on gin. The crossroads keep their secrets. The blackbird lets them in. No saints without their shadows. No crowns without their cost. No soul comes through the fire without something getting lost. Baptized twice. Still thirsty.
