I've been in a series of doubt and belief.
I hear so many different things
but they're spoken on low volume, I couldn't be away from them if I tried, and I tried. I'll never be alone.
Conjecture and logic with a little sprinkle of hope and conviction,
I'd like to think I know anything about you.
You're a figment of my mind, a touch of my spirit, I sense you through grapevines and dreams.
I conversate with walls and windows and I wonder if it's truely you, if you're truely there.
He says that you are, and I trust that, even if it may be lies.
It's all for a purpose.
It has praise and it has shame,
sometimes it hurts to have a little faith.