All I have ever had faith in is being burned at the cross.
Thunderous braille, skin's sinful sail, thrown away in the night.
Even though she's a lightning bug, she's fragile as a bloom.
Enduring as a cockroach. As scarred as Jesus Christ.
As scared as Jesus Christ.
We don't care, we've got wine. Come and open up your eyes.
Wear the wreath and show your teeth.
They'll never let us win.
So we'll throw our own victory party.
Justify your own ways of coping with your unfortunate.
Because everybody's got them even if they swear they don't.
Our way is being happy, even if we're sad.
Refusing to lose and insisting we've won by throwing up our arms.
Judas in one church is Jesus in another.
So **** being scared to lose and **** being scared of rules.
Your mind and your heart are your Bible.
Proudly spatter your cross with your sacred, bountiful blood;
and dream the beautiful dream.
Live the beautiful dream.