Laurie Anderson — The Fifth Plague

Beasts of the field we stand Somewhere between darkness and man Part of the plan Part of the proof Of the fifth plague Ah, to die in a grove On a spring day Tipped over by God Part of the proof Part of the plan Of the fifth plague Not the glorious death of the sacred bull But slaughtered and pitched like rotten junk Into the land of the dead Where mummified kings and queens wait In their own heaven Beasts of the field we stand Somewhere between darkness and man Part of the plan Proof of the power Of the fifth plague Like the dying bull in the ring Struck by the picadores The last sound he hears in this dusty world The out of tune trumpets and the sound of applause As the matador bows