Flannery O'Connor's Wise Blood may be the last word on grace amid the grotesque. This southern rocker gives voice to an outcast who loudly claims he's beyond saving, even as grace dogs his steps.
lyrics
I'm an outcast that no one can save anymore
and the days of my youth are long gone by
I was the kind of boy the devil would offer
a smoke or a drink to or a ride downtown
to some God-forsaken land
One Sunday morning at dawn you know
they baptized my soul
but they held me down so long
Christ, I almost drowned
I was the kind of boy who never learned to smile
so I kicked and I screamed
till I pulled myself loose from all these great big hands
Wise blood knows how to walk the way the wind blows
Wise blood hears grace whisper right behind
My mama, she turned around and said,
Hey little boy, you better wake up
cause you're walking dead
she was the kind of girl who never touched
a smoke or a drink
she just smoldered like an empty church
left to burn in the wind.
by Kurt Stevenson, Chris Boesel, and Patrick Winningham
credits
from Songs About Books,
released June 28, 2011
Mark Wallace: guitar
J. Scott McClintock: bass
Brad Elliot: drums
Carey Wallace: vocals
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