Thursday, January 6, 2011

Jesus Christ

Jesus Christ, that's a pretty face, the kind you'd find on someone that could save. If they don't put me away... well it'll be a miracle. Do you believe you're missing out? That everything good is happening somewhere else? But with nobody in your bed, the night's hard to get through. And I will die all alone. And when I arrive, I won't know anyone.

Jesus Christ, I'm alone again. So what did you do those three days you were dead? 'Cause this problem's gonna last more than the weekend.

Jesus Christ, I'm not scared to die, I'm a little bit scared of what comes after. Do I get the gold chariot, or do I float through the ceiling? Do I divide, and pull apart. 'Cause my bright is too slight to hold back all my dark. And this ship went down in sight of land, and at the gates, does Thomas ask to see my hands?

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