I Torched Your Family Home

I torched your family home In a desperate fit of ungrateful hate I stole the mash notes, teacups, and black mold spores And I hurled them in a coming hurricane And there'll be no reckoning No dawning knowledge I'm to blame For guilt is not so focussed, it rattles random Like a machine gun spins on a weathervane Whatever will you do when God is found on the moon Waiting for the chance to leap to Earth To burn up on re-entry like the judgment we're awaiting Like that bitter sense of worth Cause I torched your family home And now I'll never weep again There's just the grinding gears of a life well lived The machinery of hope and lust and shame