"As he that taketh away a garment in cold weather,
and as vinegar upon nitre, so is he that
singeth songs to an heavy heart."
Proverbs 25:20
I forgot about this song. One of the reasons I forgot about it is that it's obsolete. There are other obsolete songs I wouldn't post, because the spirit behind them is, in some cases, profligate, even though the writing may be good. But that's not enough. If you make a beautiful sculpture out of raw meat, idiocy, and other perishable items, at some point, your sculpture is going to rot. Even our bodies, which are the pinnacle of God's creative handiwork, turn eventually to dust. How much more then, the ramblings of a fool? How long did you think your heart was going to last, sitting on the dashboard? What is the half-life of a soul, rotting in the sun?
I'm glad so much of my work is obsolete. God forbid I flail in the meat-field any longer, believing myself to somehow not be in a cemetery.
God forbid.
"All Is Well In Hell" is obsolete, but unlike some of the other material, its obsolescence is the reason I'm posting it again now, 12 years after it was written. That, and the fact that God has not specifically told me not to. I've asked. My spirit is not convicted to ignore this one, like it has been with some of the others. I've asked. And asked again. I deleted the feature-length diatribe about a culture of "content creators" and other tired themes, but I will leave this excerpt from the article Good Art vs. Sick Content, and let you do the math yourself. Suffice it to say, if you need a wannabe creator to produce the work for you, which is to say "for your consumption and approval," and only consume "content" that is created for you, rather than for its own independent, individual purposes, you're part of the problem.
Enough.
"Content creators have an agenda; artists are engaged in the process of discovery. Creators of content are factory workers; artists are panning for gold. Artists experience the revealing of the work before their eyes much like a child opening a Christmas present; content creators produce material for consumption (including by themselves).
The two are opposites."
Good Art vs. Sick Content
"All Is Well In Hell" isn't available on any of the regular albums, and only appears on Vol. 3 of the greatest hits albums, A Sunny Day In Outer Space. Even though it's cold, and hard to breathe without divine assistance, I can attest that it is indeed a sunny day in outer space. With God's assistance and by His grace and mercy, and nothing less, I finally did "escape the web" and "break the spell," as this song predicted I would. While I believe the line "where there is no good, there is no doubt" is exactly wrong, the song stands as a monument to the possibility of escape. If you have a heavy heart, and glib, dismissive people drive you further into the arms of a slow, narcotic death for reasons of dismissing your suffering as "weak," this song is for you.
That's the only reason I'm posting it. If God had told me not to, I wouldn't.
Your suffering is valid. It can also be redeemed.
Thanks for listening.
All Is Well In Hell
Row your battered little boat
as gently as you can
down the stream
Whose blood is this
splattered on my monochromatic coat?
Am I drowning,
or is this just a dream?
The earth has opened up
to swallow me whole
lava swishes around the lip
of the volcano like a cup
and the sky
is an umbrella full of holes
All is well in hell
round and round
on a flaming carousel
like a turtle
in his shitty little shell
all is well in hell
The sun is shining brightly
it is safe to assume
up in Heaven,
and on earth,
and in places unencumbered
by the pallor
of this glamourous gloom
But I am in agonizing pain
just like everybody else
all the people I once loved
at whose hands I finally
lay slain,
all my friends without a pulse
All is well in hell
round and round
on a flaming carousel
like a turtle
in his shitty little shell
all is well in hell
Walking on a wire
through the fire
and she's talking up a storm
something about a contradictory desire
to set me free
and keep me warm
And while I am notoriously easy
for the pleasures
of the moment,
what kind of dark emotions,
exactly, baby,
are you trying to foment?
Girls are whirlpool,
spinning you around
it's a helluva kick,
but in the end
you're going down
All is well in hell
Uncle Screwtape,
you're a liar
I can tell
Someday I'll escape your web
and break your spell
all is well in hell
Where there is no wood
the fire goes out
Where there is no good
there is no doubt
All is well in hell
round and round
on a flaming carousel
Someday I'll escape your web
and break your spell
all is well in hell
What you don't know
can't hurt you,
but it might kill you painlessly
What you don't know
can hurt you,
but it might kill you painlessly
©2012 Nathan Payne
