Blaze of Glory
Kill This Chorus!
"Each night I go to bed, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. No, I ain't looking for forgiveness, but before I'm six foot deep..."
"Gerard, art thou...?"
"Lord, I got to ask a favor, and hope you'll understand. 'Cause I've lived life to the fullest, let this boy die like a man. Staring down a bullet, let me make my final stand..."
"Gerard, thou better not..."
Shot down in a blaze of glory! Take me now but know the truth. I'm going out in a blaze of glory...!"
"Gerard, please..."
"Lord, I never drew first but I drew first blood, and I'm no one's son. Call me young--"
"GERARD!"
The mentioned, shaken out of his concentration, glanced at his best friend in confusion and hit pause.
"What, Michael?"
Michael fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead pointed to the crackling radio Gerard had been singing along to.
"Thou really must turn it down! Thy art in the knowledge that we art not allowed to interfere unless we art told to!" He threw up his hands in frustration.
"But I'm not interfering!" Gerard replied. "I just like the song and..."
"That is yet another thing," Michael interjected. "First, we cannot make earthly contact unless we have a message to deliver, and secondly, does thou actually understand what those heathens dare to call music? It is practically sacrilege!"
"But..."
"Just tone it down, all right?" Michael’s expression softened. "I do not want thee to get in trouble, and if the Lord hears about this, thou might end up like Lucifer or something of the sort. Kicked out of heaven at his very prime."
"It's not like I'm planning a mutiny or anything," Gerard muttered. "All the music we have around here is about Him, and I'm just looking for variety, you know?"
"I know, Gerard." The archangel patted his back understandingly. "But do not be so bitter about it. He did create us, in case thou hath forgotten."
A trumpet sounded in the distance, its harmonious sound echoing over every golden corner of heaven. The two caught each other's gazes and mindlessly smoothed down their pristine robes, which even glinted in the hallowed light that reflected off the diamonds that made up the ground.
"Time for worship," Michael uttered unconsciously, perhaps to remind them both that they were going into the presence of God in a matter of moments (it was actually an eternity when you think about it, but there was no need to get into specifics).
"Be quiet, thou hear?" Michael put a finger to his lips, and Gerard nodded.
"Let us depart."
Michael flapped once, twice, and lifted off, soaring the clouds with the contrasting might and grace of an eagle.
Gerard looked over his back to check his full, feathery wings and followed afterwards, singing under his breath something along the lines of “Call me young gun, I'm a young gun…”
-
-
The heavenly stadium was a magnificent sight during a gathering; legions of flawless winged creatures and billions of perfected souls, glimmering with the incomparable brilliance of divine light, arms raised and waving in unison to worship the almighty Being that shone on His throne.
But perhaps, more splendid than what the eyes could offer was the resonance of all those souls, angel and human alike, as their voices rose in a great chorus; melodious and thunderous and at the same time so saccharine sweet, a sound no words ever invented on earth could describe (it even gives the newcomers, that is, the newly dead, shivers when they first hear it).
”Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah to the lamb…” Heaven’s residents sang as instruments of every kind joined them, right on cue. ”Hallelujah, hallelujah, by the blood of Christ we stand!
“Every tongue, every tribe, every people, every land…
“Giving GLORY…!”
Suddenly, one lone voice sang out of tune, drawing the entire session to a halt. All the consecrated eyes looked for the source of the discord, and found it in the form of an angel called Gerard, caught up in his own little world, singing into an imaginary microphone, eyes tightly shut.
”Going down in a blaze of glory! Lord I never drew first, but I drew first blood!”
Everyone stared at him in disbelief and bewilderment, mumbling their questions to one another.
“What in God’s name is he singing?”
“Who in heaven is he worshiping?”
“Oh, bless that wandering soul!”
”I'm the devil's son!”
Everyone’s eyes widened; some even gasped. Somewhere in the back, someone screamed, “BLASPHEMY!”
The shout was what brought Gerard back to his senses, and as he opened his eyes and saw all the accusing glares boring into him, he flushed and he couldn’t help but whisper, “Call me young gun?”
There was a pause, the greatest silence ever to be recorded in history and even before that, before all those blessed beings rushed at him to attack, blood lust sparking in their sanctified faces.
“A DEMON IN OUR MIDST!”
“EVIL HAS SLIPPED PAST THE PEARLY GATES!”
“SEND HIM BACK TO HELL WHERE HE BELONGS!”
One would think they’d be less supportive of violence in heaven. Apparently not.
Fortunately, before anything could harm a single hair on Gerard’s angelic head, a loud, booming voice came to his rescue.
“ENOUGH!”
All heads turned to the Lord above them, while still in the middle of an assault position.
“EVERYBODY, I WANT ALL OF YOU OUT IN ONE, TWO…!”
Everyone scampered in a rush of panic, not wanting to still be in the arena when that countdown reached three.
“EXCEPT FOR YOU, GERARD…”
The voice zeroed in on Gerard’s quietly retreating form, which immediately froze in place.
“AND YOU TOO, MICHEAL. I HAVE A FEELING YOU’RE ALSO INVOLVED IN THIS, SOMEHOW.”
At that, the archangel fought the urge to bang his saintly head against the Tree of Good and Evil, which he, coincidentally, was using as a hiding place.
"Gerard, art thou...?"
"Lord, I got to ask a favor, and hope you'll understand. 'Cause I've lived life to the fullest, let this boy die like a man. Staring down a bullet, let me make my final stand..."
"Gerard, thou better not..."
Shot down in a blaze of glory! Take me now but know the truth. I'm going out in a blaze of glory...!"
"Gerard, please..."
"Lord, I never drew first but I drew first blood, and I'm no one's son. Call me young--"
"GERARD!"
The mentioned, shaken out of his concentration, glanced at his best friend in confusion and hit pause.
"What, Michael?"
Michael fought the urge to roll his eyes and instead pointed to the crackling radio Gerard had been singing along to.
"Thou really must turn it down! Thy art in the knowledge that we art not allowed to interfere unless we art told to!" He threw up his hands in frustration.
"But I'm not interfering!" Gerard replied. "I just like the song and..."
"That is yet another thing," Michael interjected. "First, we cannot make earthly contact unless we have a message to deliver, and secondly, does thou actually understand what those heathens dare to call music? It is practically sacrilege!"
"But..."
"Just tone it down, all right?" Michael’s expression softened. "I do not want thee to get in trouble, and if the Lord hears about this, thou might end up like Lucifer or something of the sort. Kicked out of heaven at his very prime."
"It's not like I'm planning a mutiny or anything," Gerard muttered. "All the music we have around here is about Him, and I'm just looking for variety, you know?"
"I know, Gerard." The archangel patted his back understandingly. "But do not be so bitter about it. He did create us, in case thou hath forgotten."
A trumpet sounded in the distance, its harmonious sound echoing over every golden corner of heaven. The two caught each other's gazes and mindlessly smoothed down their pristine robes, which even glinted in the hallowed light that reflected off the diamonds that made up the ground.
"Time for worship," Michael uttered unconsciously, perhaps to remind them both that they were going into the presence of God in a matter of moments (it was actually an eternity when you think about it, but there was no need to get into specifics).
"Be quiet, thou hear?" Michael put a finger to his lips, and Gerard nodded.
"Let us depart."
Michael flapped once, twice, and lifted off, soaring the clouds with the contrasting might and grace of an eagle.
Gerard looked over his back to check his full, feathery wings and followed afterwards, singing under his breath something along the lines of “Call me young gun, I'm a young gun…”
-
-
The heavenly stadium was a magnificent sight during a gathering; legions of flawless winged creatures and billions of perfected souls, glimmering with the incomparable brilliance of divine light, arms raised and waving in unison to worship the almighty Being that shone on His throne.
But perhaps, more splendid than what the eyes could offer was the resonance of all those souls, angel and human alike, as their voices rose in a great chorus; melodious and thunderous and at the same time so saccharine sweet, a sound no words ever invented on earth could describe (it even gives the newcomers, that is, the newly dead, shivers when they first hear it).
”Hallelujah, hallelujah, hallelujah to the lamb…” Heaven’s residents sang as instruments of every kind joined them, right on cue. ”Hallelujah, hallelujah, by the blood of Christ we stand!
“Every tongue, every tribe, every people, every land…
“Giving GLORY…!”
Suddenly, one lone voice sang out of tune, drawing the entire session to a halt. All the consecrated eyes looked for the source of the discord, and found it in the form of an angel called Gerard, caught up in his own little world, singing into an imaginary microphone, eyes tightly shut.
”Going down in a blaze of glory! Lord I never drew first, but I drew first blood!”
Everyone stared at him in disbelief and bewilderment, mumbling their questions to one another.
“What in God’s name is he singing?”
“Who in heaven is he worshiping?”
“Oh, bless that wandering soul!”
”I'm the devil's son!”
Everyone’s eyes widened; some even gasped. Somewhere in the back, someone screamed, “BLASPHEMY!”
The shout was what brought Gerard back to his senses, and as he opened his eyes and saw all the accusing glares boring into him, he flushed and he couldn’t help but whisper, “Call me young gun?”
There was a pause, the greatest silence ever to be recorded in history and even before that, before all those blessed beings rushed at him to attack, blood lust sparking in their sanctified faces.
“A DEMON IN OUR MIDST!”
“EVIL HAS SLIPPED PAST THE PEARLY GATES!”
“SEND HIM BACK TO HELL WHERE HE BELONGS!”
One would think they’d be less supportive of violence in heaven. Apparently not.
Fortunately, before anything could harm a single hair on Gerard’s angelic head, a loud, booming voice came to his rescue.
“ENOUGH!”
All heads turned to the Lord above them, while still in the middle of an assault position.
“EVERYBODY, I WANT ALL OF YOU OUT IN ONE, TWO…!”
Everyone scampered in a rush of panic, not wanting to still be in the arena when that countdown reached three.
“EXCEPT FOR YOU, GERARD…”
The voice zeroed in on Gerard’s quietly retreating form, which immediately froze in place.
“AND YOU TOO, MICHEAL. I HAVE A FEELING YOU’RE ALSO INVOLVED IN THIS, SOMEHOW.”
At that, the archangel fought the urge to bang his saintly head against the Tree of Good and Evil, which he, coincidentally, was using as a hiding place.