Tales Of Twisted Faith

“Mama we all go to hell. Mama we all go to hell. I’m writing this letter and wishing you well; Mama we all go to hell. Oh well now, Mama we’re all gonna die. Mama we’re all gonna die. Stop asking me questions I’d hate to see you cry. Mama we’re all gonna die.”

“And when we go don’t blame us, yeah. We let the fire just bathe us, yeah. You made us oh-so famous, we’ll never let you go. And when you go don’t return to me my love,” Frankie sang with my uncle. They jumped around on stage happily; both in their element.

“Mama we’re all full of lies. Mama we’re meant for the flies, and right now they’re building a coffin your size. Mama we’re all full of lies. Well Mother, what the war did to my legs and to my tongue! You should have raised a baby girl; I should have been a better son. If you could coddle the infection, they can amputate at once. You should have been-“

“I could have been a better son,” Frankie cut off before they both started the chorus.

“And when we go don’t blame us, yeah! We’ll let the fire just bathe us, yeah. You made us oh-so famous; we’ll never let you go. And when you go don’t return to me my love.”

“She said ‘you ain’t no son of mine. For what you’ve done they’re gonna fine, a place for you and just you mind your manners when you go. And when you go don’t return to me my love’. That’s right,” Gerard sang while Frankie sang ‘lalala’s’ in the background. It fit together quite nicely.

“Mama we all go to hell, Mama we all go to hell. It’s really quite pleasant except for the smell. Mama we all go to hell.”

Then they both sang ‘mama’ viciously a few times.

“And if you would call me your sweetheart, I’d maybe then sing you a song,” I sang stepping onto the stage.

“But this shit that I’ve done with this fuck of a gun; you would cry out your eyes all along,” Frankie sung next to me.

“We’re damned after all. Through fortune and flame we fall, and if you can stay, then I’ll show you the way to return from the ashes you call. We all carry on, when our brothers in arms are gone. So raise your glass high for tomorrow we die, and return from the ashes you call,” the three of us sang brutally. The crowd cheered and Frankie and I walked backstage to watch the rest of the show.

“You were great,” Frankie complimented me.

“Thanks; it was a new experience for me.”

“How do you mean? We’ve been on stage before.”

“I mean, I’ve never sang-sang, like lead, or anything that’s not backup, on stage before. I was almost sure I would suck,” I confessed.

“You were amazing. I can’t believe they had us sing such an amazing song with them!”

“I know! I sung an amazing part originally preformed by Liza Minnelli! I totally can’t believe it,” I practically screamed.

“You are completely amazing Jade. You sung that better than her!”

“No way! I can accept almost as good or pretty close, but in no way better,” I said defensively.

“Well then you sang really damn amazingly close to her. You’ll be passing her up soon.”

“Thanks Frankie.”

“No problem, Jade,” Frankie said softly. We stood quietly through the rest of the show. Soon my band-family returned off stage. They did so rather loudly too.

“Jade there you are,” Mikey called when he saw me.

“You were an amazing Mother War. I’m so proud of you,” Uncle Gerard praised.

“Thanks. It was really fun.”

“I’m glad you thought so. I was afraid you would freak out having to sing on stage,” Mikey confessed.

“I was born for the stage!”

“So you were.”