How do I salvage this sin?
How do I start over?
Where do I begin to understand?
How to see...how to be, me.
How do I find color through all this gray?
How do I find sunshine
when all I feel is rain,
and who the hell needs sunshine anyway?
Who needs to know what salvation is?
Who needs to pray,
to be shown the way,
to understand the beginning…
to know the worth,
I hate it.
I hate longing for heaven
while living this hell on earth.
I hate the thought of a greater plan.
That means there is a reason for all this pain.
There is an end to this game,
a prize so few will attain.
Salvation isn’t meant for me,
I know this…
I see my life and know if there is a god
then he gave up on me..
All hope has left for a better man…
a better plan.
Is this what was meant for me?
Is this what I was meant to be…
Was this my destiny
written in some book of knowledge?
Written in the stars,
a fate like yours,
a fate like mine.
I refuse to believe that there is meaning
behind all this bull shit…
all this pain,
all this war.
Tears that stain the face of time
and rain down on us,
burning us with its salty wetness.
This cant be it,
unconditionally and irrevocably it.
Well fuck you and your condescending glare.
Fuck you and your ever present stare,
that refuses to see me and what I was meant to be.
Who refuses to believe in a person,
preferring pages over a parsons worth.
Fuck you I see tears and I want to wipe them away.
I see pain I want to say it will be okay,
but you refuse to believe in me
because I refuse to pray.
Who am I praying to anyway?
Which god to you prefer today?
Which road points me the right way?
Well fuck you, who are you to tell me anyway?