Comfortable Lyrics

Comfortable lyrics

She likes to keep God out of church,
especially when she prays:
all in its
place, all safely stored
for some rogation day....
the paradox is so
apparent,
the sense absurd, but all too real;
the nonsense is
arrant
but she just wants to feel comfortable.

A pound in the
collection-box,
a name-plate by the aisle;
she always wears a hat,
for
He'll appreciate the style.
Pays no attention to the sermon,
Christ in
himself has no appeal,
the social custom is the turn-on
and she just
wants to feel comfortable.

Treading not on her illusions,
I will not
walk upon my own:
we stand among the creature comforts;
we're standing on

the stockpiles of first stones.

We stand on the brink of the
Ultrapower,
assume it's a proper place,
view the living hour by
hour
in the first person singular case.
On with the usual,
complacent,
wait for the mortal wound to heal
when the abyss is
adjacent...
what right have we gotto feel 
comfortable?

On with
the usual complacency,
on with the customary zeal;
she doesn't need to
match a valency,
she just wants to feel comfortable.

It's her
blindness and her blessing
that the thought will not occur
that heaven,
when it comes, might have
no special place for her.
She'll never look at
the enigma,
she doesn't want things quite that real.
Oh, that's some kind
of stigma --
What right has she got to feel
comfortable?

She
doesn't want to think about it,
she doesn't want to talk about it,
she
doesn't want to look at it.
It makes her feel uncomfortable.