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| Houses of the Holy Album Sleeve by Led Zeppelin | 
You can check out the Crib Notes for this poem and lyrics written in the style of the lyrics for Led Zeppelin's "Houses of the Holy." I've always been one to just read a poem or book without having it interpreted for me, but I get I like it but, "huh"? lol, okay, if you don't know the song, you should click here for the lyrics to the song so you can appreciate how truly great these continued lyrics are, lulz...
And
now here comes Michael walking
(should
be read, or better sung out loud!, to Led Zeppelin’s song “Houses of the Holy”)
Part I: Sending his brother away
Michael stands and
shoe shines his things
                     with the underside of his
feathers.
They’re a sight
these handsome wings,
               will withstand all inclement
weathers.
That’s a good thing
for on the eve
                                 he’ll fly out
leading battle.
And the last thing
he needs to grieve
                                 is for them to give a rattle.
                                  You know.
Getting dressed is
a production.
                         Got that sword of his
that fires
into ribbons of
destruction,
                 Sends you down into the quagmires.
                                 Oh –oh.
Chain mail of his
is somethin’ swell,
                      made of things weird and
unman.
You gotta’ get used
to the smell
                                 but I’d avoid
it if you can.
                                Whoah –oh .
Because He who is
as the Lord
                 forgets at times to sponge on
down.
But who needs it
when he can afford
                              a thousand
stainless gowns? 
For if angels could
be vain
                     Mike would be our leading man
affectation for
being unstained
                        He would be his own
best fan.
                                 You
know.  That’s right.
But that’s why he
feels so bland
                               Immortal and without
sin
Virtues he doesn’t
understand 
                     having angels and saints
for kin
Enters Gabs just in
from riding
                   Dragons, with a smile on
his face.
Gabs: the bearer of
good tidings--
                  Mike puts high ones in their
place.
Chief prince reads
the sky blue pages
            Longing lumps of pain for his
brother
Whom he hasn’t seen
for ages
                           Cause he belongs to
another. 
                                          
It’s so-o.
Speck turns to
dense crimson flaring
                 buzzes along heaven’s lines
above.
Come the hosts of
Lucifer blaring
                       Mike feels a queer mix
of love.
Was there anyone so
gently strong
                             as Lucifer his
beloved light?
Since Luz was the
one to know wrong
                    was the only who too knew
right.
So began the battle
of Hosts
                       heavenly, deadly, and
sanguine.
It left many if not
most, 
                   letting out a gruesome whine.
                                                
Oh. oh. 
First lamb is cast
from the fold 
                looks like this’s Mike’s new
day job
clasps Lucifer’s
hand but he can’t hold
                                  lets him go
with lurid sob.
                                    Oh-oh.
Lucifer falls and
yet leaves warning: 
                                 he’s not
really all that far;
Look to Venus in
the morning
                             you see his
light-giving star.
What
I Said When I Saw Salvador Dali’s Metamorphosis of Narcissus at the Tate
Modern 
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