You picture your Jesus
In white and red cloth
I picture my Jesus
In black and red flannel
Raising a fist in the air
Just happy to declare
His own independence
Cause being on your own
Doesn’t mean being alone
Let’s burst the bubble and say
The only friends you have
Are imaginary
And if you’ve never got lost,
What luck
But if you haven’t, you will
And if you have, good riddance
To the normal ways
Don’t you see
They’ll sell you bright colors in youth
And pastels when you’re old
The ease you feel will flee
Once your life is fleeting
Buy me,
But don’t explore me
A slow cyanide
I say, steal what you want
I have something you can’t kill
The will to live
A beating heart
If you want me dead so bad
Why don’t you start
Pulling pistols
Like in the old west
A grudge is over in seconds, there
But your holy sacred shrine
Is built on something pseudo-divine
You’ve seeped in
And I’ll carry you
Through every untamed gesture
Every loud noise
You’re just strapped in
On my ride
We’re all just trying
To swallow the water
And spit out the ashes
Tell the truth,
I dare you