I don’t think I understand myself very well.
I’ve got all the talents, the track record, my parents loved me with more skill and imagination that I should be well beyond the breach by now
But alas, this breach has occurred in me.

My heart is a siren, a car alarm, fueled by anger, jealousy and fear.
And still it’s compassion knows no bounds.
Tell me how this is possible?
Tell me, how can love be selfish and giving in the same heart?
Perhaps the bruise longs to heal, but loves the attention it attracts as well.

So I’ve thought of changing myself
I’ve thought of burning my fingerprints many times
Though I’ve never found a suitable fire
Only played with matches

So I went to the church and questioned everything the man said
I wasn’t looking for God, because I really did not want to find him
Instead I blamed the priest, as some threat to my spiritual inheritance
The brain battles the heart
You don’t make sense good sir!  (you pompous wretch)
Perhaps you are swayed by the devil in disguise? (I’m him)
And he knew it.
So I was cast out, not by dramatic exorcism, but by a simple turning of the shoulder
“My door is always open” he said with ambivalently kind eyes.

So back to Hollywood, you grasped for the flesh
Rock n roll your destiny, and you must fool yourself each waking morning
And though your dreams were of weddings gone awry
Though you wake with tears and hear languages you don’t understand
Though you really fucking miss her
The only recourse you find, the only comfort that distracts
Is singing.

Orgies, the company of women, drink and lust, beautiful lust awaits you
As does fear
It’s been five years now that you’ve wished yourself dragged by the furious mob
That you should be sacrificed by mis-understood animals
and then forgive them
And in doing so a new understanding, a new compassion
Like the saints you prayed to as a child

But I’m not them, I’ve actually sought out sin
For what is virtue without vice?
To know one is to know the other
Like a mirror image.

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