When you sleep in the house of God you devote your life to molding yourself each and every morning to his liking. You read the script to the best of your ability knowing that the more you drink, the more the words will pile up next to the bottle. But you don't care, you get on your knees, and you pray, and you ask him if being **** is wrong, why did I **** one of your daughters and all she could say was your name? You see, they believe in you just like I believe in music and they trust you just like I trust that she will stay, so why is it so hard to compile all those facts and leave me the **** alone. Happiness and religion are not synonyms. I don't need the world to be against me to lean on him. The entire Milky Way can be falling on my back and I'll still find the strength to carry her also just to give her a glimpse at the stars.